At First Glance
by Sweet Little Mary Sue
Summary: Delilah Quinn has come to the Quileute reservation to stay with her grandmother's best friend, a woman intent on acting as a matchmaker. She thinks that Lilah would be the perfect woman for her nephew, who lacks the social graces to attract any eligible females on his own, but what she didn't count on was an ill-mannered wolf taking an interest in Lilah himself...Paul/OC imprint.
1. Just What I Needed

At First Glance

Sweet Little Mary Sue

Synopsis: Delilah Quinn has come to the Quileute reservation to stay with her grandmother's best friend, a woman intent on acting as a matchmaker. She thinks that Lilah would be the perfect woman for her nephew, who lacks the social graces to attract any eligible females on his own, but what she didn't count on was an ill-mannered wolf taking an interest in Lilah himself...an interest that cannot, and will not, be denied. But will he be able to persuade Lilah to feel the same for him, when she is determined that there isn't a man in existence who she would ever permit to own any part of her?

Disclaimer: I'm sure that everyone is already aware of the fact that Stephenie Meyer wrote the Twilight series, just as you're aware of the fact that I'm hijacking her characters for my own nefarious purposes...but for all those who have been living under a rock, or for those who aren't all that bright...and for legal purposes...I own nothing, aside from my OC and those she brings into the story with her.

Author's Note: The imprint storyline is far from original, but I wanted to give it a try for myself. There's not a lot that's known about Paul, aside from his temperament, so I'll be making him my own. I'll do my best to keep him as much in character as I know how to, with what I have to work with. ***Also, I know that in the novels it is specified that the wolves can only hear one another's thoughts while they are in their wolf form, but I have made it where they can at all times, if they choose to do so.***

Warnings: This story is rated M for violent outbursts, swearing of one type or another, sexual innuendo and eventual lemony smut.

Chapter One

Just What I Needed

Lilah's POV

The kitchen in my honorary Auntie Mary's home was bustling with activity and filled with the spicy scent of the chili bubbling on the stovetop. It was customary for the guest of honor, that was me, to sit back and relax while others prepared a welcoming meal, but I had been encouraged to cook for everyone, no doubt to display my culinary talents to the eligible men in the area, and had reluctantly agreed, assembling a massive pot of chili, which was the star attraction, along with a huge pan of cornbread and a peach cobbler for dessert.

It hadn't occurred to me that there would be so many guests in attendance, people I didn't know, had never seen before, but even when Mary had told me the number I'd felt confident that if I doubled my basic recipes I would have enough, but Mary had insisted that I quadruple the number, making me wonder if the guests had bottomless pits instead of ordinary stomachs resting within their bodies.

Mary and a nice lady named Sue Clearwater hurried through the cramped space, joking and laughing while they readied plates and bowls for the crowd that seemed too large for Mary's tiny house, owing more than likely to the monstrous sized men who each took the time to pass by the kitchen, sniffing the air and doling out compliments and jokes in equal ratios. Good grief...did their parents give them fertilizer along with their formula when they were infants or what?

The one downer on what would otherwise have been a fun evening was Mary's nephew Sonny, a short, roly-poly weirdo amongst those who were quite possibly the most virile men I'd ever seen. I don't know why he was convinced that I was interested in him, or that my supposed infatuation with him was the reason that I was staying with his Aunt Mary, rather than her recent health problems, and a request from my own grandmother, who had been the best of friends with Mary for over twenty years, but he seemed to be suffering from an overabundance of self-confidence.

Even worse were the glances that Mary kept sending my way, the ones that said that she thought it was absolutely wonderful that her creepy nephew was standing in the corner of the kitchen, staring at me, with his eyes glazed over and his mouth hanging open a half inch or so. It was so bad that I fully expected drool to drop out at any moment and I resolutely kept my eyes on the stove, hoping both Sonny _and _Mary would take the hint and leave me alone.

"I've never seen anything more mouthwatering," the leering weirdo in the corner said, in what he probably considered a come-hither tone of voice, but was actually just a disgusting attempt at a clever double-entendre. "I can hardly wait to taste it."

Oh, gag...It took every ounce of self-control that I possessed to stifle the urge to upchuck into my chili, but I managed. Did he _really _think that I was going to be flattered by his idea of flirting? And if that wasn't bad enough, it was obvious that Mary thought that he was doing well, and that if I didn't feel complimented by her nephew's creepiness yet, that I would be soon, if the satisfied smile on her face was any indication.

I wanted to let him know _exactly _what I thought of his comments, but at the same time I didn't want to cause a scene and decided that it would be best if I just kept my thoughts to myself. The scents of the cornbread and the cobbler joined the chili and consciously keeping the fact in mind that I had a pervert eyeballing me I bent to open the oven door, doing my best not to display my backside or my cleavage to him. The cornbread was a golden brown all over and the cobbler was bubbling and I removed them one after another from the oven, placing them on the wood topped island in the center of the kitchen, sidestepping one of the gigantic guys who'd filled the house as I did so, my face flushing red as I stepped on his foot.

"I'm sorry," I said, though he was the one who'd been in the way. In my haste to remove my weight from his foot I nearly lost my balance and I felt my blush deepen as his huge...and strangely hot...hands grabbed hold of my shoulders, righting me before I ended up sprawled in the floor of the kitchen.

"Why don't you watch where you're going?"

His voice was almost a growl in my ear, an angry growl that raised my hackles, making me experience a painfully acute awareness of his masculinity and indignation from his rudeness, along with the teensiest bit of fear, the latter being the one emotion that made me see red.

I was tempted to jerk away from him, an action that would have no doubt caused me even more embarrassment, considering the fact that in doing so I would more than likely fall down, besides which, I found that I couldn't make him budge, no matter how much I struggled against him.

"I was doing just fine until you got under my feet," I hissed, the trepidation that had made me so angry growing stronger, making me even more furious. "Maybe you're the one who should watch where you're going."

I bristled when I heard his snort of laughter, trying once more, unsuccessfully of course, to pull away from him, but he held me still against his body, freeing one of his hands from my shoulder to cup my chin, raising my face so that I was looking into his eyes. I had seen my fair share of good-looking men throughout my life, quite a few of them I'd just met this night, as a matter of fact, but none had been quite as striking as the one staring down into my eyes.

His eyes had been dancing mirthfully and he'd been on the verge of answering me, a retort that would no doubt cause my temper to flare out of control, but whatever he'd wanted to say seemed to flee his mind as he looked at me. His eyes seemed to change in that instant, widening with disbelief and then the moment changed from him looking _at _me into one where he was looking _in_ me, baring all my hopes and dreams, catching a glimpse at each beat of my heart...seeing me in a way that no one ever had before and I didn't like it...not one damn bit.

"Well, shit," he muttered and a reverie, a magic that had rooted us to that spot took hold, and he slowly removed his hand from my shoulder, but the hand that was still beneath my chin stayed where it was for a moment longer as he ran the pad of his thumb over my lips. He seemed torn between the desire to flee and the need to stay right where he was; a conflict that I could understand because I was feeling a bit mystified as well.

"Can't you see that you scared the poor girl half to death?"

Mary's voice broke through the trance holding us captive and he swiftly removed his hand from my chin, backing away from me, his eyes never leaving mine as he did so. I was aware of the fact that the kitchen, which had been alive with the hustle and bustle of a large get-together had grown quiet, deathly so, and everyone was transfixed on the drama playing out before them.

"Paul, I'm glad that you're here with the others to welcome Delilah, but if you can't find the ability to behave yourself then I'm afraid that I'll have to ask you to leave."

I winced at the use of my hated name, _Delilah_, but the grimace was quickly trumped by a smile because I found it hilarious that Mary was scolding this man who dwarfed her as though he was a small child. The situation was made even more humorous by the look that came over his face, one that spoke volumes about the fact that he _was _behaving himself, which was the only reason that he hadn't told her to go to hell.

"I didn't mean..." he whispered, completely ignoring Mary and everyone else in the room. "What I mean to say is that I never...I hadn't expected...dammit...I'm sorry, okay?"

He turned and hurried from the room, leaving me, along with everyone else, completely bewildered. I wasn't sure whether I should chase after him or leave him be until I saw Sam Uley, who'd been chatting with Sue, start after him. I got the feeling that they were friends and that Sam would help to straighten this whole mess out...he had that air about him, the calm and collected demeanor of someone in charge.

This was shaping up to be one hell of a night...I could hardly wait to see what would happen next.

Paul's POV

I'd never placed much stock in the whole imprint thing, but it was becoming vividly clear that it wasn't the bullshit I'd always taken it for. Part of me had always thought that it was the tribal version of that paleface mumbo jumbo about _love at first sight_...sheesh...what a load of sentimental tripe. Of course, I'd also considered it a crappy notion because of the fact that it was something that couldn't be controlled, that you'd look at someone and be under their spell for the rest of your life. What if you were to look at some ugly chick and bam...it was all over? How embarrassing would that be?

Of course, this Delilah wasn't ugly at all; as a matter of fact she was quite the little hottie, in a fresh faced and pure kind of way, the exact type of woman that would normally never appeal to me. I was more of a loner, but when I did look for a woman, I searched for the one who had that gleam in her eyes, the gleam that said that she could turn me inside out and have me begging for more, but that she didn't expect anything more than a good time. This woman from the kitchen, the one responsible for the delectable food whose scent had drawn me into the kitchen in the first place, the one that I'd just _imprinted _on for chrissakes, had that white picket fence look about her...damn...what a mess.

I stopped by the little creek that ran by Mary Dodson's house and stared at the water, stewing and cursing beneath my breath, when a horrifying thought seized hold of me. What if she wasn't a little hottie? What if the fresh faced and pure thing was just the tip of the iceberg? Jeez...I knew that it was awfully conceited of me to even be worrying about something so shallow, but I was in this now, whether I wanted to be or not and I didn't want to be leg shackled to some dog-faced woman for the rest of my life.

"_What in hell is your deal Paul?"_

I may as well have known that Sam would go all Alpha on me, seeking me out to offer his _counsel_ and all that jive, but I didn't really want to hear about our tribe and the legends and the tradition and how it was the most amazing thing in the world, to find the other half of your soul.

"_Is that why you lit out of the house like that? I knew that it had to be something major to chase you away from primo food like that...the primo grub that will be all eaten up by the time we get back if we don't hurry up."_

It was really irritating at times, the fact that my mind wasn't my own, and this was the perfect example of that irritation. Hell, I didn't want anybody to know about my ill-timed imprint. _I_ didn't even want to know about it, but I didn't have much choice, did I?

"_I might have known you'd be worried about the food Sam. I didn't ask you to come out here, so why don't you just piss off?"_

He stopped beside me at the creek's edge and chuckled, bending to pick up a handful of rocks, which he started plunking, one after another, into the water, grating on my nerves, which didn't need to be frazzled any more than they already were.

"_Well...considering the fact that you'd normally plow through everyone else to get to food like what's waiting inside, I'm afraid you've lost the argument with that point, but that's not what I'm worried about."_

He was right about the food...I was starving and everything had smelled downright heavenly, but there was no way that I could go back inside. Sam could have brought me a plate outside, but he hadn't come out to wait on me. He was here to do the whole "leader of the pack" routine...to "counsel" me in my time of need...what a load of horseshit.

"_Come on Paul...it's not like you're special or anything, you know? You're not the first one to imprint after all, and at least you weren't with anyone else when it happened, like I was."_

I might have known that he'd use the moment to point out my supposed narcissism, to remind me that I wasn't special, and always, forever, 'til the end of freakin' time, the fact that he'd had it so much worse than the rest of us. He was always harping about how he'd phased first, without anyone being there to commiserate with him, and how he'd dropped Leah for Emily, because of the imprinting crap and on and on...yadda, yadda, yadda. To hear him talk you'd think no one else had ever suffered in their life...but if you asked me I'd say that Quil had it worse than anyone else...imprinting on a two year old for chrissakes...talk about an ill-timed imprint.

"_There's nothing 'supposed' about your self-absorption Paul...ask anyone and they'll tell you the same thing. And as for me going on and on about how hard I've had it...imagine if you'd phased and had no idea what had happened or why it had happened. And imagine if you had a girl right now...someone you thought you loved...that was, you thought that until you laid eyes on Delilah. Or even worse...imagine if she had another guy in her life...how would you feel? Wouldn't that be hell...wouldn't that tear you up? I will admit though...Quil's situation takes the cake as the ultimate ill-timed imprint."_

I'd never had a serious girlfriend in my entire life, so the idea of breaking a girl's heart was a foreign concept to me. I only mixed with the ones whose hearts were atrophied from disuse, so there was no risk of them taking offense when I moved on, but the idea of some faceless bastard running his hands all over Delilah made my blood boil. It was even worse to imagine her _enjoying _the hands running up and down her body. I growled deep in my throat and kicked at the rocks at the creek's edge, wanting to hurt someone...anyone...but the only one available was Sam, and attacking the Alpha was out of the question.

"This is absolute bullshit, you know?" I snarled, curling my hands into fists at my sides. "I knew I should have stayed home tonight...then I'd never have bumped into her, I'd never have grabbed her to keep her from falling down, and then I'd never have looked into her eyes and ended up ass deep in trouble."

Sam chuckled and threw an arm around my shoulders, ruffling my hair, something he knew I hated, but did anyway.

"There's no blocking fate Paul," he answered, chuckling once more as I pulled away from him and punched him in the arm. "She was made for you, and you for her, and the best advice that I can give you is to appreciate that fact and do your damnedest to make her see past your obvious imperfections and love you anyway."

Freakin' smartass...he was always the comedian, wasn't he? I wasn't sure where I stood on the whole "destiny" concept, but I knew enough to know that there was no getting around the need that I had for her, the one that would grow stronger and stronger until it consumed me.

"Now then, since you know there's no avoiding this...or her...what do you say that we get back inside before all the food's gone?"

My stomach growled loudly in response and I followed him to the house, and then stopped right outside of the door.

"I have to know one thing before I go in there. You have to tell me Sam and be completely honest, because you know that I'll know if you're lying...she's not ugly is she?"

He stared at me for a moment or two, as though he was in shock, then he started laughing hysterically, leaning against the house, his hands on his knees as he all but howled. I waited patiently for him to finish, until he showed no signs of letting up anytime soon and then I slugged him in the shoulder...again.

"Would you put a lid on it? The whole damn house is liable to hear you. Besides which...it's a perfectly logical question, you know? I'm the one blinded by her...she could be Medusa's twin sister and I wouldn't know it."

He finally stopped laughing and straightened, turning to stare at me, and I saw her through his eyes, my Delilah, beautiful, sexy, her lips, her hair, and her eyes...all perfection.

"If I were a single man, you can bet that you'd have some serious competition," he answered, snorting with renewed laughter as he ducked into the house, leaving me outside, stewing, knowing that he'd even _considered_ her in that way.

Oh damn...this was even worse than I thought it would be. What was I going to do? I didn't know how to do the whole courting routine...hell, just thinking about it made me sick to my stomach. I knew how to find a girl, get her hot and screw her senseless...all in an hour...after which I put on my clothes and went home. This whole love and commitment stuff scared me half to death...but what choice did I have?

"Are you hungry?"

As though on cue a sweet, slightly husky voice broke through my thoughts...her voice...and I groaned, steeling my resolve as I turned to find her standing in the door that Sam had left open. I took a deep breath and looked into her eyes and felt the impact of her gaze all over, the world shifting once more as our eyes connected. It was even worse this time, because my mind leapt to at least twenty different responses to what she'd just said; responses that I stifled with some difficulty when I saw a nervous smile flitting around her lips and a bowl and plate loaded down with enough food to feed three people...or one wolf.

I couldn't trust myself to say anything that made sense at that moment, so I did my best to smile my answer, following her inside the house and making my way to the corner of the living room where there was space for both of us to have a seat. Every single member of the pack was in attendance and they all smiled at me knowingly, one or two whistling beneath their breath and winking, but I ignored them as best as I could. This night was going to be hard enough as it was without me phasing in front of all these people and destroying the house. I could do this, I could control myself.

And then she brushed my hand as she passed me a spoon, blushing prettily as her skin caressed mine...

Dammit...I was screwed.


	2. I Prefer Shadower To Stalker

Chapter Two

I Prefer Shadower to Stalker, Thank You Very Much

Paul's POV

A week had passed since the night that I'd first laid eyes on Delilah Quinn, and it was becoming more and more difficult to find a plausible reason for showing up at the home of Mary Dodson, a woman I barely knew, on a daily basis. It had been easy to begin with, to find chores that needed to be done, repairs to be made, anything that would enable me to catch a glimpse of my Lilah, even if it was a fleeting glance, but after a week I was running out of things to do, and my frequent appearances were starting to raise suspicion in the community.

Something had become obvious to me the night that we'd welcomed Lilah to the neighborhood, something that would have made me see red if I hadn't also seen that it was one-sided and pathetic and that was that Mary's nephew Sonny had a serious jones happening for my Lilah. It wasn't surprising that other men would want her; I expected that, as much as I may have hated it, but did it have to be him that I watched salivating after my girl? He'd never really fit in on the rez, he was way too weird. All he'd ever cared about was vegging out on his auntie's couch and working on his computers, so mostly he was overlooked, but he damn sure got my attention when I saw him staring at Lilah with his eyes all boggled out and his tongue hanging out of his mouth. I hadn't made my mind up just yet what exactly it was that I was going to do to him, but he was damn sure going to find out quick that he wasn't to look at her like that anymore...he wasn't even going to think about her...not after he and I had a little clarifying conversation.

Apparently Sonny wasn't one to stoop to menial labor, which I was thankful for because his laziness had afforded me the one excuse to hang around, hoping for a peek at Lilah, and I was putting the finishing touches on a paint job on the chicken coop when I caught a pleasant scent on the air, a scent that had become very familiar, very intoxicating to me in the past week. I bent and threw my paintbrush into an empty can and stretched sinuously, knowing damn good and well that she was standing behind me, hoping that the sight of the rippling muscles of my back would be a turn-on for her.

I was encouraged by the slight hitch that I detected in her heartbeat, but I didn't let on that I'd heard her coming. The truth was, of course, that I'd smelled her, that I'd felt her before I heard her tread on the ground, but there was no reason to discuss that with her. I waited until I heard her shift somewhat nervously from one foot to the other, 'til I heard her clear her throat to turn and give her what she thought was only at that moment my complete attention, when the reality was that I'd thought of nothing else but her all week.

A lot of people would never look you directly in the eyes; they seemed to find that sort of contact uncomfortable, but not my Lilah. Of course, it was something that was considered to be an aggressive behavior in the animal world, but I kind of liked it myself. I wasn't sure what she felt when our eyes connected. I was pretty confident that it was nothing like what happened to me, the shifting of the earth beneath my feet, the warm glow that took hold of me, feelings that I still wasn't completely comfortable with, but I hoped that she felt something, any little bit that might push her in my direction.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your work, but I thought that you might be hungry," she said, smiling in a way that I knew she meant to only be friendly, but which grabbed hold of me like it had been a caress. I also knew that she'd intended her words to be straightforward, an invitation to do nothing more than partake of whatever meal that she'd prepared, but I couldn't keep my mind from traveling to the gutter every damn time she said something like that. 'Are you hungry?' or 'I thought that you might be hungry.' She was damn skippy that I was hungry, hell, I was freakin' famished, but not just for whatever culinary delights she was offering...I was starving for her...more so than I'd ever been for a woman in my entire life.

"I made some sandwiches from the chicken leftover from last night's dinner," she continued, her gaze faltering from mine as I continued to stare at her and I cursed myself for being such an idiot, knowing damn good and well that I was allowing too much of my feelings to show in my eyes. "It's nothing fancy, but you seem like someone with a voracious appetite, so I thought I'd make the offer."

She really had no idea how _voracious _my appetite could be, at least not where she was concerned. Hell, it wouldn't be much of a stretch to say that I would be downright insatiable if I was ever to get a taste of her. I had found myself on more than one occasion imagining what her skin tasted like. Would it be honey all over, or would there be a hint of that spice that I'd witnessed the first time I'd seen her? Were her lips as soft as they looked and what would they feel like beneath mine? How many others had tasted her, had known her in ways that I might only dream of...I couldn't think about that...it made me crazy if I did.

"Am I supposed to take this as a no?" she asked, bringing me out of my reverie. "It would be much more polite for you to say the word, you know, as opposed to staring at me and making me self-conscious. I wasn't trying to force you to eat my food; I was just trying to be courteous."

She started to turn and walk away from me and I reached out to grab her arm as gently as I was capable of, cursing myself for being such a damned idiot. She probably thought that I was a complete jerk, an opinion that most people who knew me would agree with, but that didn't mean that I was content with the idea of _her _thinking of me that way.

"Hey, don't go," I said, reluctantly releasing her arm, knowing instinctively that she wouldn't respond well to being held in place. "I was just distracted there for a minute, I wasn't trying to be rude."

I wouldn't have been surprised if she had turned and made her way to the house the moment I released her, so it was pleasing to me that she stood her ground and heard me out. I'd never really been one for apologizing, at least not where heartfelt contrition was concerned, so the words that I meant to convey my regret sounded pretty weak, and I hoped that she would see past them, to the feelings beneath...that I didn't ever want to hurt her...not in the least.

"Chicken sandwiches sound great," I continued, my stomach grumbling as I thought about the baked chicken that she'd made the night before. "I just hope that there's enough for everyone else after I've had about five or six."

I'd been doing my best to wrangle a smile out of her and I wasn't disappointed. It wasn't the biggest or brightest smile that I'd seen on her face, but it was a hell of a lot better than the frown that had been on her lips. It was strange to find myself acting this way, me, the one guy who'd never really given a damn if I hurt someone's feelings or not...I guess there was a lot of truth in what the guys had said about imprinting and how it changed your entire outlook on life.

"You'll have to go kind of easy on the chicken," she answered in a voice that I would swear had that smile inside of it. "There wasn't much left over but there's potato salad to go with it and lemonade...and brownies for dessert."

I normally wasn't all that impressed with potato salad, but I had a pretty good idea that hers would be delicious. Lemonade was a definite plus, it was one of my favorites and then there was the cherry on top of everything...homemade freakin' brownies...it made my mouth water just to think of it...that and the fact that a burst of cool air swirled around us and made her nipples tighten beneath her shirt. I was a jerk for even noticing that, but it was kind of hard to ignore.

"I can hardly wait," I answered, my mind mainly on the hardened points beneath her shirt, and how they'd feel and taste in my mouth, and to a lesser degree on the culinary delights waiting for me in Mary's house. I knew that I had to do my best to act like a gentleman...a foreign and scary concept for me...if I wanted her to give me a chance and I was determined to stick to the plan...I could only hope that I was capable of controlling myself 'til then.

Lilah's POV

I don't know why, but I thought to myself that I could be content just to sit and watch him eat for hours at a time, he was that fascinating. I don't know why his appetite should be captivating to me, as a matter of fact, it should have turned my stomach to witness such gluttony, but there was something satisfying in watching a man who'd been working hard all morning, well, the past week, really, sit at a table and throw back sandwich after sandwich, along with a mountain of potato salad, chugging it all down with a gallon of lemonade.

For the life of me, I couldn't figure out how he did it, how he managed to consume so many calories and keep that body of his, the one I found myself admiring more than I should. Of course, his fitness could be attributed to the fact that he was always doing something physical, but still, I didn't think that he was _that _active, not enough to work off all that he ate, so how did he do it?

I also wasn't sure why he always worked in nothing more than a pair of denim cutoffs, when the temperature outside had been in the mid to high forties all week. He should have been freezing, but I'd watched him...more times than I cared to admit to...and he'd never seemed bothered by the bite in the air. As a matter of fact, he never seemed to even notice that it was chilly, and the few times that his skin had brushed mine, whether accidentally or purposefully, I didn't know, he had felt like he was on fire, making me think that he was running a fever, but I realized now that was just his normal body temperature...though it seemed very _abnormal_ to me.

"Did I drop something on my face, or are you staring for some other reason?" he asked, turning to grin at me as he swallowed a brownie in two bites, and it was my skin that was red-hot then, from the intense blush that I felt take hold of my face. I couldn't believe that I'd allowed him to catch me watching him. I did so very often, watch him, that was, but I always took care to do so subtly. It was a habit that was infuriating to me, as a matter of fact; that I was allowing myself to become so fascinated with this man, and now it was even worse, because he'd caught me at it. What alarmed me the most was the fact that maybe he _hadn't_ just caught me at it at that moment; maybe he'd always been aware of my staring and had just waited 'til this moment to mention it.

"Hey now, don't be upset," he whispered, dropping his third brownie to slide his hand across the table, hesitating for just a moment, then rubbing his calloused fingertips gently across the top of my fingers. "I was just teasing, you know, I didn't mean to make you self-conscious."

He was watching me so intently, with such a look of genuine concern on his face that I instantly felt better. It was so odd, considering our first interaction with one another, and how I'd thought him to be so rude, that he was now so nice to me, so attentive, and I couldn't help but wonder what had fostered this change in him and I found myself speculating on foolishness such as whether or not he found me attractive, or whether or not his sudden burst of charity toward Mary had anything to do with the fact that I was staying with her. Normally I was more disciplined, but lately I'd found myself behaving in a manner reminiscent to that of a teenager, something that irritated the hell out of me.

"I know you didn't," I answered, and for some reason I turned my hand over, so that our fingertips were touching, rubbing against one another. "It's just embarrassing for me, that you caught me staring at you, like I'm some sort of stalker."

His smile started slow, almost shy, and then grew until it brightened his whole face, reminding me once more of how handsome he was. I swear...was my mind turning to mush or what? Why was I so fixated on this guy? I'd more or less sworn away from men, having never found one who was genuine or willing to go the distance, so why was I allowing myself to be so attracted to this guy, the one who probably went through women like a person with a bad head cold went through tissues?

"That wouldn't be so bad, now that I think about it, having you for my stalker, as long as I can be yours too," he said, shifting his gaze to our fingertips, which entwined as though they had a mind of their own. "But then, I'm not one who cares for competition, so I'd have to get rid of Sonny first."

Did he _have _to remind me of Sonny, and the fact that the weirdo had spent every waking moment leering at me? I had a respite from him when I was asleep; I made sure of that by locking my door and window and shoving a chair up underneath the doorknob. Some may have thought that I was being overly cautious, but they hadn't been in my room the first night of my visit, when Sonny had come in after everyone had gone home, after his Auntie Mary had gone to sleep, closing the door behind himself and blocking it with his body. His intentions had been clear in his eyes, that he thought I was easy, a girl who would be willing to have a little _fun _with him and I'd left him no with no uncertainty that he had about a snowball's chance in Hell at getting into my pants and that if he didn't leave that instant he'd find himself missing an essential part or two. Needless to say, he'd hightailed it out of my room as quickly as he was able to and to my knowledge he hadn't tried to trespass on my space again, but I wasn't taking any chances. He hadn't, however, felt the need to cease his gawking and even now, with Paul sitting next to me, he maintained his constant gaping, though I was heartened by the look on his face, the one that spoke of his displeasure, as he took note of the moment that was passing between Paul and me.

"I take offense to the term _stalker_," I answered, running my fingertip down his hand, tracing the calluses on his palm, some old and some new. "And I can guarantee you that I wouldn't be heartbroken if you were to incapacitate him in some way, though I'd ask that you not cause him any personal harm, for Mary's sake, you know?"

I slowly became aware of how quiet the room had become, and of the fact that though it had felt as though Paul and I were alone, the truth was that we had an audience. Both Sonny and Mary were watching us intently, were staring at me, then at Paul, then back to our hands, where my fingers were exploring the rough spots on his flesh. I felt my blush return with a vengeance, but when I would have moved away from him he stopped me, gripping my hand firmly, but gently.

"What would you say if I was to ask you to go out with me tomorrow night, maybe to get something to eat, then go to see a movie?" he asked, running his thumb in a caress back and forth over my palm. "Because if your answer would be yes, then I'm asking you right now, and if it's no, then we'll say that I'm not asking right now...we'll just say that I'm thinking about it, because I want to ask you."

I tried not to laugh out loud, which resulted in me snorting instead, which made him laugh as well. I had never met anyone like him before, and even if I had, I surely wouldn't have liked him, let alone thought that would like me, but I did like him and I was pretty sure, especially now, that he liked me. It would be nice to get out and have some fun, and be saved the chore of cooking for one night. I knew that I'd come to visit to help Mary, but I hadn't anticipated that I would be cooking three times a day, and it would be nice to sit down to a meal that I hadn't slaved over.

"I'd like that," I answered, pleased when his smile returned full force, having been replaced by a look that said that he expected me to shoot him down. "What time should I be ready?"


	3. Double Date with a Side of Third Wheel

Chapter Three

Double Date with a Side of Third Wheel

Lilah's POV

I had eaten in front of him countless times since we met, so why was this night so different? Why did I feel so self-conscious, worrying about things like how I looked while I chewed my food, and whether or not I would dribble my clothes with my dinner, or even worse, what if I spent the meal talking to him, only to discover later on that I'd had food stuck in my teeth? Argh...this was absolute insanity! I could recall our third meal together when I had snorted with laughter over something he'd said and caused the iced tea that I'd been drinking to blow out of my nose, but here I sat, a bundle of nerves, as though we'd just met.

The festive atmosphere in the tiny bar and grill did little to calm me, even with the twinkling Christmas lights that were apparently a year-round feature and the group whooping and singing delightfully off-key to a Beatles tune in classic karaoke style. It was one of those places where everyone knew one another, where you felt welcomed and well cared for, but I just couldn't relax, I was too busy trying to remember my manners and not say anything stupid, while still remembering to enjoy myself.

Paul seemed to sense my uneasiness, his eyes kept darting to mine, and I was taken aback by the kindness, the concern, evident in their depths. I'd originally thought that he was a jerk, one in a line of many who had way too high of an opinion of themselves, so it was a pleasant surprise to discover who he really was. Of course, there were traces of a volatile temper present, something I recognized having the ability to blow my top as well, but the thing that made me feel as though I'd known him forever was his sense of humor, especially evident as he sat with his "brothers", teasing and laughing, reminding me of those I'd grown up with.

I'd been taken aback when he'd showed up at Mary's house with a party of three in tow, surprised and just the teensiest bit offended for a split-second, but as the night went on I found that I didn't mind that he'd arranged for us to double date with Sam and Emily, though Jacob's presence was still somewhat of a mystery to me. I knew from past experience that being the third wheel in a party was an awkward way to spend an evening, so I had to wonder why Jacob had consented to come along, especially when he looked so damned miserable.

There was a compatible spirit between them, a real feeling of fraternal bonding between Paul and Sam that wasn't present between him and Jacob. In fact, there seemed to be a hostile undercurrent with them and again I wondered why Jacob was there. It wasn't that I disliked him, when I looked beyond his general gloomy disposition, and the antagonism radiating from him toward my date, I found him to be very polite and likeable...but sad.

"You're kind of quiet tonight," Paul whispered, choosing to speak to me as I was sinking my teeth into my venison bacon cheeseburger, which I found delicious, despite my nerves. "You aren't regretting saying yes, are you?"

He kept his tone light, but I could tell that he was honestly worried. I would have reassured him immediately, had my mouth not been filled with partially masticated burger, so I made do with shaking my head vigorously, praying that none of my food slipped down and lodged in my throat in the process.

"Of course not," I answered, once I was capable of intelligible speech. "I'm having a wonderful time Paul...I'm just a little nervous is all."

His relief was instantaneous, lighting his eyes and curling the edges of his lips into a smile that I was quickly becoming very fond of, a boyish grin that seemed to take hold of me in several places, a couple which came as a complete surprise to me.

"Is it Jake?" he asked, turning to grace Jacob with a completely different smile, one that earned him an answering snarl. "His gloom and doom outlook on life lately is enough to make anyone uneasy...I think that it makes people afraid that it might be contagious."

I noticed Jacob tense in his chair and for one moment I worried that a fight was going to break out, but Sam quickly took charge of the situation, saving us from an unpleasant scene.

"Both of you need to calm down right now," he said, his voice radiating calm authority. "And quit being so damned touchy, alright?"

I could see how that applied to Jacob, the admonition to not be so touchy, but I couldn't imagine what it was that Sam thought Paul was being prickly about, teasing and confrontational perhaps, but not moody. I got the feeling that there was something being said between them, a conversation that required no words to be spoken, but that was silly, wasn't it? It wasn't as though they were psychic after all.

"It's none of _you _that made me nervous," I said, feeling the need to speak up, to explain myself. "You guys are all great and I'm having a wonderful time. I can't explain why it is that I feel nervous...I just do."

Emily rose from her seat beside Sam and came to sit next to me, placing her arm around my shoulder. It was a gesture that took me completely by surprise, and even more startling was that I almost instantly felt better. It was odd that I didn't really notice the gouges on her face anymore. She was such a lovely person, both inside and out, that it made her scars virtually invisible.

"There's no need for you to feel nervous, sweetie," she said, rubbing her hand up and down on my shoulder. "You're amongst friends, you're one of us and we all love you...isn't that right Paul?"

That was a question that would have terrified most guys, but Paul didn't look scared at all. He looked across the table at me, his eyes taking on that look that said that once more he was looking _in_ me rather than _at _me. The first time it had happened the feeling had been disconcerting, unsettling to me, but as time had gone on I found that particular gaze mesmerizing, flattering, and it drew me like a moth to a flame.

"I guess that you could say that," he answered, his hand making its way across the table, his fingers twining with mine. "Though saying so might make Lilah even more jumpy than she already was."

His eyes held mine and I found myself breathing faster. I didn't understand why I was acting the way I was. Everyone else in the room...every single thing seemed to disappear and all that mattered was me looking at him and him looking at me. It was absolutely ridiculous for me to be acting this way, and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that the other members of our group were watching us, and it should have mattered to me what they might have been thinking, but for some reason I could have cared less.

I was going to answer that no, it didn't make me nervous to know that I was thought of in that way by them...by him...but my intentions were interrupted by Sam announcing that we had better leave then, or run the risk of missing the movie. I reluctantly pulled my gaze...and my hand...away from Paul's and grabbed my purse, searching for the cash to cover my bill. It would have been easier if I had bought myself a wallet at some point, but I always just threw everything in all helter-skelter.

"What are you looking for in there?" Paul asked, chuckling as I tossed out Kleenex and gum, my brush and lipstick, obviously finding my predicament amusing. "It looks like you unloaded your whole room into that purse."

I ignored him as my hand closed around the ten that I'd been searching for with a triumphant "Aha!" I then went to grab my check, which had been placed next to my plate when Paul grabbed my hand again, not roughly per se, but definitely more commanding than he'd been before.

"Are you suggesting that I'm some kind of cheapskate?" he asked softly, with a hint of humor in his voice that eased the spark of temper that had flared in me when he'd grabbed hold of my hand. "What kind of jerk would I be if I let you pay for anything? After all I asked _you_ out, not the other way around, sweetheart."

My daddy had always warned me about going out with men who refused to pay for everything on a date, and not just the first date, but all of them. So Paul would have certainly earned brownie points with him for his insistence that he would pay, though he would have earned a warning growl from my dad for his use of "sweetheart". I suppose that I should have taken offense as well, for him being so familiar with me, but I couldn't help but feel a warm little glow inside...I guess I wasn't much of a feminist.

"I wasn't trying to _suggest_ anything," I answered, halfheartedly making the effort to pull my hand away from his, an attempt that he thwarted by linking his fingers between mine. "I just didn't want to make the assumption that you intended to pick up the tab..._honey_."

Paul's POV

I still wasn't completely sold on the idea of having my soul mate picked for me, leaving my opinion completely out of the equation, but all things considered, the more that I thought about it, the more I realized that my Lilah was a perfect match for me, the other side of my heart, the one I hadn't even realized was missing, as corny and cliché as that sounded.

There was no doubt that she was beautiful. It was true that my eyes were prejudiced, but I saw how guys looked at her. As a matter of fact I felt downright hostile most of the time because of the appreciative glances thrown her way. Her shy nature would have never caught my eye if she had been any other woman. Those bashful types were always too much trouble, too much work. You had to woo them with pretty words, taking your time, and I had never found that the frustration was worth it, once I got what I wanted, so I tended to stick to the brash chicks, the ones whose intentions to get laid were evident in their eyes...or at least I had before I met my Lilah...now just the thought of those girls made me kind of sick to my stomach.

She was a nice girl, such a weak word, I know, but it fit her and she had a good sense of humor. I guess that she had to have one in order to put up with Sonny's presence in her everyday life, didn't she? She didn't hesitate to stand up to anyone, not even me, and she could cook anybody under the table. Long story short, she was a girl who possessed the face of an angel on a body made for sin, a woman who would fill my life with happiness, who didn't know it yet, but she would one day be my mate and I would love seeing her round with my babies.

We were sitting in the front seat of my '72 Dodge Challenger, me behind the wheel, my Lilah in the passenger seat and Sam, Emily and Jacob in the back. The drive-in wasn't the classiest place in town, but I enjoyed the freedom of sitting in the car while we watched a flick, with no people milling around us. We got a good place up front and parked, then sent Jacob, pissing and moaning like an old woman as he walked away, to get us some popcorn and sodas.

They were playing _Dracula_, the '92 version with Gary Oldman, and there had been a good deal of internal ribbing between Sam and me about the irony of it all. We'd tried our best to include Jacob in the joking, but he was having none of it, the pouty little baby. He was too damn busy being lovelorn for that leech lover Bella Swan, and he especially didn't appreciate any teasing that had to do with bloodsuckers.

The movie was in its opening reels; the screen filled with Vlad Dracula laying the spank down on the Turks, but not before his wife got the false report that he had been killed in battle, and pitched her body off of a parapet, wishing to reunite herself with her lost love. Then Dracula went on a tear, desecrating a chapel and renouncing God, the dumbass, all because they told him that his wife was damned for committing suicide. I was fairly certain that there was little to no truth to the tale, but I couldn't help but think of that Swan chick and her relentless need for her leech, and I scoffed at Jacob's need for this girl, who would never want him the way that he wanted her to.

_Why don't you just mind your own business Paul? It's none of your damn concern, and besides which, it's not like Lilah belongs to you either, but all of our heads have been filled with her name, and her face, and her body for the past week._

I bit back a snarl, not wanting to call attention to myself, and gritted my teeth. It was true that it wasn't my business, even though every member of the pack had been hearing about it for what seemed like forever. The worst part of what he said was the bit about her not belonging to me. That had to be the hardest thing about this whole imprinting business. I felt as though she belonged to me, she was in every thought I had, hell; I was consumed by her, but that fact didn't guarantee that she'd ever want me, let alone love me.

_At least when I think of my __**imprint**__ everyone's not forced to endure images of a leech loving dimwit. My __**imprint**__ Jacob...tell me something...is she __**your**__ imprint, or is Bella Swan just some chick that you're hot for, but who won't give you any? I have a pretty good idea that you wouldn't know what something like what Sam feels for Emily, or what I feel for Lilah is like, even if it was to take a bite out of your ass, so spare us the whole "down in the dumps" bullshit, ok? It's getting really freakin' old, you know?_

The grumble that had been growing in his chest intensified 'til he was snarling, lunging at me from the backseat, only to be stopped mid-lunge by Sam, who threw him back against the seat. Jacob wanted to fight back against him, and if I hadn't known better I would have sworn that Sam _wanted_ him to defy him, maybe to put Jacob into his place once and for all.

_I've already had to tell you both to calm down once this evening, and now I have to tell you again. Was there mud in your ears the first time, or were you just wanting to test your limits a little bit? Paul, you need to leave off with the whole "leech lover" bit, ok? Jacob's feelings are his own, even if we don't like them or understand them, or agree with them. And as for you Jake, you need to bring yourself down a notch or two and quit being so damned sensitive all the time. You know what the pack's feelings toward Bella and her relationship with the Cullen's is and you have to know why it is that we feel that and stop getting upset if we can't wrap our heads around your situation, alright?_

We both got the picture and settled back against our seats, my attention turning to Lilah, who was pretending to watch the movie as opposed to the tension that had been playing out between me and Jacob. As for Jake, he turned to stare out his window, still pouting, but not as obviously as he had before. Sam directed his attention back to Emily, capturing her lips with his own, and aw, crap...was that his hands taking hold of her boobs? I verified that it was and feeling slightly nauseated I turned my gaze back to something more pleasing, namely, my Lilah.

She'd returned most of her concentration to the screen, where Mina had just arrived at the home of her friend Lucy, but every now and then her eyes would dart my way. The first couple of times I pretended that I didn't notice, but the third time I met her gaze and smiled as she jumped a little in her seat, blushing prettily, then returning her eyes to the movie. I felt my smile grow as I reached across to take hold of her hand, twining our fingers together. Hers were slightly greasy from the butter of the popcorn and I was seized by an almost overwhelming desire to place the tips into my mouth and lick the buttery flavor away, but I resisted the urge, knowing that I'd probably scare her half to death if I did that.

I really wasn't paying all that much attention to the movie; I was too wrapped up in Lilah, when suddenly the sound of a woman moaning in an orgasmic fashion flooded the car. I instantly gripped Lilah's hand, hard, and didn't relax my hold until I heard her whimper painfully, which made me loosen my grip instantly. The first thing I thought was that Sam and Emily had gotten out of control with their touchy feely business, but then I realized that the sounds were coming from the car radio, from the movie and my eyes traveled to the screen, where a scene was playing out that couldn't have been worse, not from a first date, or from a shape shifter point of view.

Dracula, being the nasty perv that he was, had taken on a werewolf like appearance, which was a freakin' insult to all of us who had our own hairy moments and took down leeches in the process, and had made his way onto the grounds that belonged to the luscious Lucy's parents, beckoning her to him in the garden so that he could...er...have his wicked way with her.

It was bad enough that we could hear every single moan and gasp as he took her, but even worse was the fact that along with Mina we watched as he thrust and plunged between her thighs, taking her very thoroughly and marking her with his teeth. Though I was embarrassed I found myself responding, and suddenly Lucy's hair turned dark and her skin took on a golden glow and just like that she was Lilah, and the werewolf, the freakin' Dracula wolf, turned from black to silver and it was me who was between her thighs, between Lilah's thighs, and she was writhing beneath me, crying out in pleasure as I surged into her body again and again-

"You're hurting me."

Her voice was tiny in the car, the first words that she'd spoken since we'd arrived at the drive-in, and I looked down, cringing when I saw the whiteness of my knuckles, knowing how hard I was gripping her hand, hard enough to crack her bones, and I wondered how long I'd had a death grip on her. I slowly raised my eyes to her face, scared that I would see pain in her eyes, or even worse, tears, but thankfully they were clear, maybe just a tiny bit apprehensive, but also a tiny bit amused, and under it all, the smallest flare of heat, the kind that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with arousal.

"I'm sorry sweetheart," I whispered, feeling a gamut of emotions coursing through me, anger and remorse for hurting her, residual embarrassment from the scene that we'd witnessed, and my reaction to it, and a surge of desire for her that was so strong that Jacob and Sam both scented it as well, rumbling deep in their throats, a growl of disgust from Jake and one of amusement from Sam. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

She smiled and rubbed her thumb over the back of my hand, a caress that felt so good that she may as well have kissed me there. "I know..._honey_," she answered, linking her fingers with mine, returning her attention to the screen.

The rest of the movie played out with me paying very little attention, even though there was a chase scene and several decapitations. I only had eyes for the girl sitting next to me, and I discovered that it was much more interesting to watch her, watching the movie than anything that played out on the screen and before I knew it the movie had ended and it was time to go home.

We all chatted about the film, making derogatory comments about Dracula, such as how sissified, how girly he was in the movie...well...at least Sam and I were. Emily didn't have much to say, she just had lots of smiles for Sam, Jacob didn't say anything and Lilah just looked back and forth from me to the backseat, grinning occasionally, but mostly looking as though she disagreed with our opinion of the bloodsucker.

"What did you think of the movie Lilah?" I asked, turning the key in the ignition, bringing the car to life. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh, I loved it," she said enthusiastically, fastening her seatbelt and straightening in her seat. "I just love watching Gary Oldman...he's so sexy."

I stared at her in disbelief, jealousy, which was an uncommon emotion for me, coursing through my body, attacking me from all angles. My girl, my Lilah, thought that a freakin' _leech_ was sexy-

Well, shit...that was just great.


	4. Holding Hands with the Doctor

Chapter Four

Holding Hands with the Doctor

Paul's POV

The paleface newspapers were filled with the specifics...well...as detailed as they were able to be...of the rash of murders and kidnappings that had recently taken Seattle by storm. The experts were whispering theories of serial killers, a thought that terrified everyone, a possibility that hadn't been a reality since the Green River Killer had butchered forty-eight women over twenty-one years, his capture coming less than a decade ago. I had to wonder how they'd react if they knew the truth of the matter...that a monster, an infection at least a thousand times worse had invaded their town.

Thirty-nine people either whacked or snatched in the past three months...bodies found with crushed bones but not one shred of physical evidence that linked them to their killer...smoldering corpses found in dumpsters...the town was in a definite panic and the poor bastards had no clue whatsoever about what they really had cropping up in their backyard...not that they'd believe it even if they were to hear the truth.

After all...it wasn't like there was any such thing as shape shifters or vampires...not in the real world. There were chicks who pored over romance novels, pleasuring themselves with an electronic lover while they imagined an undead hunk feasting on their soft flesh, but real, live bloodsuckers...ones who were intent on sucking the life from their bodies, then tossing the dried out husk of their carcass aside...that was a crazy idea...a disgusting horror story that could never come true.

Speaking of disgusting horror stories...thanks to my sweet little pain in the ass brother, the pouty one known as Jacob, everyone in the pack knew about the night spent at the drive-in, the one that had ended with my girl...my imprint...the freakin' light of my life, my Lilah...declaring that she thought the leech from the movie, the one that had spent a good deal of the time as some older than Methuselah freak show, when he wasn't a creepy batty humanoid creature, that is, was good-looking. Now I had to put up with a bunch of tittering like I was surrounded by a horde of little girls...sheesh...it took all that I had to keep myself from rearranging a few faces, but I'd managed to keep control of myself...so far.

As if all of that...and the growing presence of the Seattle ticks...hadn't been enough, then I'd had to be constantly on guard, keeping the one image from that night, the one that had woke me up every night since our date, out of my head and theirs. It was the scene from the movie that had Dracula making his move on the redhead, in disguise as a wolf, that became me, that I was the one plunging in and out between the thighs of the chick, whose crimson hair turned dark, the one image that had me waking every night, drenched in sweat, my throbbing cock in my hand, making my hunger level for my girl, which was already dangerously high, grow to an intensity that had me seeing her everywhere I looked, tasting her in every breath that I took...it was sheer and utter hell.

The real bitch was that I barely knew her, and I could imagine that it would come as quite a shock to her if I was to spill my guts and bare my heart, to tell her that as corny and cliché as it sounded, that I had fallen in love with her the first time that I had looked into her eyes...shit...it sounded corny and cliché to _me_, and I was the one living with the agonizing emotions.

_Dammit Paul...how in hell do you expect any of us to keep our minds on the trail when you're broadcasting your soap opera dilemma so loud? I've got a damned headache already, and I've only been out here five minutes._

There were a lot of drawbacks to the wolf pack lifestyle...having to be in the near constant company of guys who consumed a high protein diet, and the lovely gastrointestinal results of said diet...phasing in and out in front of a bunch of guys, and one chick, and having to listen to comments about the supposed diminutive size of your junk...and so on and so forth, but the real bitch was the fact that any one of them could take a stroll through your mind whenever they damn well pleased and none of your thoughts was private, hence my irritation as Embry came trotting up to stand beside me, his voice ringing in my ears.

_I thought Jacob was bad with his constant thoughts about Bella, but we've all voted and decided that you're like a million times worse than he is and do you want to know why?_

I didn't bother answering...he and I both knew that it made no difference whether I wanted to know why or not because he was obviously chomping at the bit to tell me.

_You're a million times worse because you think of her all the time, but you're greedy with your thoughts. You've seen, as we all have, Jacob's imaginings of Bella naked, of Bella moaning his name, of Bella yadda...yadda...yadda, but with you it's all about Lilah and how much you love her and need her, but every time things start getting good, like we just might see some skin, you go dark on us. We hate to admit it, but we're all kind of amazed by your discipline...does it hurt to block us out so thoroughly?_

Hurt didn't even begin to cover what it felt like, blocking out the pack's prying eyes, but it was worth it. There was no way that I wanted them to see her the way that I did...not that I actually _knew_ what she looked like when she pulled her shirt off, or when she slid her tight Levi's down off that shapely backside that I so longed to take into my hands, but I had a decent imagination. Even tougher was the task of masking the sounds that filled my thoughts when I heard her in my head, the sounds that she made while I made love to her. I teased myself with the thought that she'd be noisy, that she'd whimper and mewl when I was inside of her...damn...there I went again...letting my thoughts get ahead of me. I turned hesitantly to see Embry watching me closely, studying me, more than likely doing his best to catch a peek inside my deepest secrets, but I shut him off quickly.

_You need to find yourself a woman Embry. Maybe then you wouldn't be so wrapped up in a slideshow of everyone else's girls, you damned perv. And as for my newfound discipline...that's none of your business either. The only thing that should concern you about me is whether or not I do my job, and I think that we both know the answer to that question, don't we?_

Apparently he took offense to my answer and growled low in his throat as he trotted away. I really wasn't concerned with whether or not I had rubbed him the wrong way, I was too confused to think about that too much. There was one angle that Embry hadn't taken into account and that was Sam. It seemed kind of dense that he wouldn't remember that there was _nothing_ that I could keep from the Alpha, no matter how much I wanted to, since he couldn't either. The big question was why Sam kept it all to himself, not that he was one who went and blabbed all the time anyway, but you'd think that he'd have spilled something by now...I know that I would've, if our situations were reversed...it boggled my mind.

_He's too consumed by thoughts of nakedness to remember that detail right now Paul. You should also know why it is that I've kept my mouth shut, even though I'm well aware of the fact that you would have __**blabbed**__ by now, were our situations to be reversed. I share with all of you, even when I'd prefer to keep things to myself, because you all look to me for guidance and support. What sort of leader would I be if I were to keep secrets, hmm? Your thoughts of Lilah don't fit into what everybody needs to know, however. That's your business alone...though I do get an eye and earful of it on a daily basis, don't I?_

I should have heard him coming a lot sooner than I did, and it was a mishap that made me wonder if I was slipping, too caught up in my fantasies to focus on anything else. What was worse was that the boss man had caught me unawares, seemingly uncommitted to my duties...sheesh...what a mess. I was on the verge of apologizing...something I absolutely hated...but stopped when I smelled the anxiety flowing out of his pores, and caught a glimpse of Lilah in his mind, and I would have sworn that my heart ceased its thumping in that moment.

I instantly phased, uncaring, for once, that I was standing bare-assed naked in front of another guy. I untied the bind holding my shorts to my leg and jumped into them, pacing nervously back and forth, shoving my hands into my hair and tugging hard on the strands, doing my best to keep myself calm.

"What happened to her Sam?" I asked, in a harsher voice than I would normally dare. "She's hurt, isn't she?"

For a minute he just stood there, staring at me and the fist gripping hold of my heart squeezed painfully, making it hard for me to breathe. In that instant I entertained the worst possible scenario in my mind, the one that would have made it unnecessary and horrific for me to go on with my life, but that couldn't be possible. I would have known if she'd...I would have felt it if she had...

"Don't just sit there staring at me, waiting for me to play a guessing game with you dammit," I snarled, advancing on him and refusing to back down, not even when he growled out a warning for me to do so. "Put yourself in my shoes for just a minute...imagine that it was Emily instead of Lilah."

I was relieved when he phased, putting us on a more even playing field. He smiled ruefully and reached out to lay his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry for all of the drama Paul," he said, squeezing my flesh a couple of times, probably hoping to reassure me. "My intention was to keep you calm and levelheaded...a plan that obviously backfired. Lilah has been hurt...it's not real bad, but bad enough for her to go to the hospital."

He said that it wasn't real bad, but how damn good could it be if she'd had to go to the hospital? I contemplated that thought, pacing back and forth, and then another thought hit me, an idea that was almost as horrible as the idea of her being hurt in the first place.

"When you say hospital, you're talking about the..._tribal_...clinic...aren't you?" I asked nervously, already knowing the answer, whether I wanted to or not. It definitely made things worse if she'd gone off the Rez for her treatment. There were...issues...at the paleface hospital, major ones of the bloodsucking variety, and I really didn't need any more drama at the moment.

"She's not on the roll Paul, she'd be turned away at the clinic," he answered, a fact which was obvious, but which I'd also hoped could be overlooked. "Mary took her into Forks to get her burns tended."

My stomach plummeted when he said that, that my Lilah had been burned, then my eyes narrowed as I looked at him. There was another part to this story, one that he wasn't eager to share with me, one that he knew would piss me off, and while I was dying to know everything, I knew that the details would have to wait until later. I had a hospital to get to, the leech in a doctor's jacket be damned, and there wasn't time to waste getting all pissy before I even made it into Forks.

Lilah's POV

My butt was falling asleep after sitting on what had to be the most uncomfortable excuse of a bed that existed outside of prisons for the past thirty minutes, and I found myself wishing that I could join it, that was if my hand hadn't been throbbing incessantly. I had already promised myself that I was going to get even with that fat little toad Sonny if it was the last thing I did, and I distracted myself as much as I could with various possibilities for my revenge. I guess that antisocial mutants like him probably considered it highly amusing to sneak up on someone who was making fry bread in a huge cast-iron skillet of boiling oil and pinch them on the ass, causing said person to stick their hand into the blistering oil as a result, but as for me, well, let's just say that I missed the comedic value of that particular action...maybe I was born without a sense of humor.

I was contemplating easing myself off of the table, just to give my rear a rest, when the curtain that had been affording me some privacy opened and time seemed to stand still, the room seemed to grow brighter, and any discomfort I'd been suffering all but disappeared when I looked up into the pale, stunningly gorgeous face of my doctor. For a moment I thought that there had to have been some sort of mistake. Doctors were usually grandfatherly types, men who were in no danger of affecting the pace of their patient's pulse, at least every doctor I'd ever seen had fallen into that category, but here was the exception to that theory, and Lord help me, he just smiled at me...ohh...be still my heart.

He walked toward me, stopping at the edge of my bed and I found myself gripping the sides of the pathetic excuse for a mattress, _hard_, praying that I wouldn't do or say anything that would make me look or sound like a complete dolt. Of course, that wish went straight down the drain when I noticed his lips moving, indicating that he was speaking to me, but for some odd reason I couldn't hear, let alone understand what he was saying to me, making me wonder if temporary deafness was a rare side effect of a burn. I stared at him for several moments, feeling as though I was hypnotized by his lips, when suddenly they stopped moving and he was the one staring, at me, like I had possibly taken leave of my senses, if I'd ever had them at all, and that's when it dawned on me that I hadn't heard his words because I'd been listening to an inner mantra of "homana, homana, homana" ever since Doctor Sexiness had drawn back the corner of the curtain separating me from the prying eyes in the ER.

My first instinct was to jump down off of the bed and dive underneath it, where I'd hide until he went away, or until I died of shame, whichever came first, but logically I realized that an action such as that would only confirm to him that I belonged in the whackadoo section of the hospital, so even though I was fairly sure that my face was red as a tomato I kept my seat.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that Doctor?" I asked, feeling like a complete moron, even though I knew that it was better than admitting that I hadn't heard a word he'd spoken due to the scorching lust running through my body.

He smiled indulgently at me, giving me the impression that he was well aware of why it was that I hadn't heard his words. I could only imagine how many women got the flutters whenever he was near...probably all who weren't blind or batting for the home team.

"I am Dr. Cullen and I will be tending to your injury this evening Miss Quinn," he answered, wincing as he looked down at my left hand, which was red and angry looking, with blisters formed on the palm. "First of all, I need to know if you are allergic to any medications, and then we will see about getting you some pain relief before we do anything else. Does that sound alright?"

Pain relief sounded absolutely heavenly to me, of course, but he could have asked me if the moon was turquoise and I would have agreed. "I don't have any allergies that I'm aware of," I answered, my blush renewing as his eyes rose back to my face. "And it would be nice to have something to deaden the throbbing in my hand, most definitely."

He smiled again, a warm smile that showed genuine humor that had my heart going kaboom in a fraction of a second, an action that turned from the flip-flop of desire to the nervous patter of fear when he turned to the nurse who'd materialized at his side and told her to prepare an IV, with an antibiotic drip as well. An IV...oh crap...that meant that she was going to be sticking a needle into me. I had never reacted well to having my blood drawn, or to taking shots in my arm...I absolutely refused them in my backside...but what choice did I have? I certainly wasn't going to humiliate myself by throwing a hissy fit in front of Dr. Cullen...it looked like I was going to have to pull on the big girl panties and toughen up, whether I wanted to or not.

It turned out that the nurse, Louise, was a wonder at her job...and at calming patients, and had me tranquil and resting by the time that the handsome, and I now knew married, Dr. Cullen rejoined me, bringing a tray filled with an assortment of treatment goodies.

I thought that I'd made myself immune to him after Louise had spilled the news that he was happily married, effectively destroying any and all fantasies that I might have cooked up in my mind, but my imperviousness went out the window when he pulled a rolling stool up to my bedside and took a seat at the same moment that he took my injured hand between his cool palms, turning it from side to side, a kindhearted look coming into his eyes.

"How did this happen?" he asked softly, his fingertips gentle as they slid over my flesh, making tears threaten in my eyes for some stupid reason. "I would say that this is a second-degree burn."

Sonny's dumbass prank was something that I had no desire to talk about at that moment so I made due with saying that it was just an accident. I got the impression that he didn't believe me, but he didn't press me any further on the subject. He thoroughly cleaned my burns and had just started applying Silvadene ointment when I heard Louise's voice, telling someone that no one but family was allowed in with patients and then the curtain that Dr. Cullen had pulled closed around my bed opened and I was face-to-face with Paul, who looked positively livid, shaking from head-to-toe, his eyes flying between me and the doctor before settling on our hands, and I would have sworn that he growled as he stared, though his eyes softened somewhat when they returned to my face.

Louise burst in behind him and started to grab his arm, an action that probably wouldn't have ended well for either of them, but she stopped when Dr. Cullen spoke up in his defense.

"That's quite alright Louise," he said calmly, finishing with the ointment and reaching for bandages. "I was just about to cover Miss Quinn's burns, and unless she has some objection to this young man's presence, I don't know why he shouldn't be allowed to stay."

It was obvious that Louise wanted to argue, but she didn't voice her protests. She merely turned to look at me, more than likely hoping that I would tell her to throw him out on his ear.

"Paul is a good friend of mine," I answered, smiling up at him, hoping that I could calm him further. "I don't mind if he keeps me company for a while."

My smile and my words seemed to have the effect that I desired and he crossed to the side of my bed that was empty, his eyes taking on a concerned look that I would have sworn almost bordered on pain as he looked at the needle in my uninjured hand and at the burned hand as it disappeared beneath layer after layer of wrapping.

"I'm sorry that it took so long for me to get here," he said quietly, reaching down hesitantly, as though he meant to hold my hand, only to back away at the last moment. "I would have brought you in myself, had I heard about this earlier."

I couldn't say why I did it, maybe it was because he'd dashed down to the hospital to see me, even though we weren't officially a "couple", maybe it was because he was obviously so worried about me, but whatever the reason I reached up to take the hand that he was pulling away, holding it tightly in my own. It wasn't the first time we'd held hands, so I knew that wasn't why he'd hesitated. Maybe he was afraid he'd hurt me, what with the IV in my flesh and all, or maybe he thought that it would bother me, if he was to do something so personal in front of the doctor. Whatever the reason, I knew that it was up to me to break the ice, so I took the lead and I may as well have given him the greatest gift in the world, if the grin on his face was any indication of his pleasure. He slowly tightened his grip on me, running his thumb across the back of my fingers, causing a surprising trip in my heartbeat, one that I should have been used to by now, but which always caught me off guard.

This was completely insane...here I'd been, lusting after my doctor not ten minutes before, but now that Paul was there, now that he was touching me, suddenly Dr. Cullen was just that, my attending physician and nothing more. I couldn't help but compare the differences in the hands on both sides of the bed, pale versus russet, smooth versus calloused, cold versus hot, and it dawned on me which I preferred, the one that I had wanted all along, the one in fact that both soothed and stirred me, and I slowly raised my eyes to stare into his face, thinking to myself how happy I was to have him at my side, and wondering what it would take to keep him there forever.


	5. So Close, But Still So Far Away

Chapter Five

So Close, But Still So Far Away

Lilah's POV

There wasn't much space available to me, but that didn't matter. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow color, a warm and mellow shade that seemed to glow. The lively hue was preferable to the dull putty shade that had covered all of the walls in Mary's house, and despite the limited space of my new home I felt much less claustrophobic than I had in hers, I finally felt like I could breathe.

It had been an inevitable change, one that was absolutely necessary for me, even if Mary had been left confused, with hurt feelings and a small measure of bitterness. It was mind-boggling, knowing that she was aware of what Sonny had done, of how he'd stalked and tormented me since I'd moved in, but she'd refused to take my side against his...I guess it's true that blood is thicker than water.

The burn had been the last straw for me and before I'd even left the hospital I'd started searching for a new place to stay. Paul had been such a help, a comfort, to me and he'd been the one who'd found the tiny cottage close to the beach. It was off of the Rez, of course, but it was still close by, and I'd fallen in love with it as soon as I laid eyes on its whitewashed walls and green shuttered windows. It was perfect, and I'd quickly snatched it up, wiping out a good amount of the cash that I'd brought with me. I'd have to find a job as soon as my hand healed, but that was no problem. It would certainly be better than having to slave over a hot stove three times a day, cooking for Mary and Sonny...not to mention everyone else who'd wandered through the door.

"I'm going to go ahead and set your bed up before I leave, Lilah," a deep voice said behind me, as strong, warm hands smoothed along the muscles on my shoulders, muscles that had been tightening up while I thought about Mary, about Sonny, and of the house that I'd just escaped from. "Why don't you come show me which wall I should put it against?"

It should have been unnerving to me, the way that he always knew when my muscles were tense, or when I was hungry, or tired, but it didn't bother me at all. The truth of the matter was that it was nice to have someone who seemed to be so in tune with me, and with what I needed, and wanted. I could tell that he liked me; the only question was how much? Did he like me as much as I liked him, or was it just a general admiration, born from friendship and a desire to help me? It those were the questions that had me keeping my feelings to myself...I had no desire to reveal too much and end up hurt and humiliated.

"You don't have to worry about that," I answered, my face growing red as I imagined Paul...and his hands...his muscles rippling beneath his tight t-shirt...setting up my bed. How would I sleep that night, thinking about that? "I know that you have to get going, and I was going to make you a sandwich before you left."

"I wasn't _worried_ about it at all sweetheart," he said, and I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was smiling. "I'm not in that big of a hurry...I'll still have plenty of time for a sandwich before I leave. You know how I am when it comes to your cooking...but why don't you let me fix it and give that hand a rest, ok?"

My hand _was_ throbbing and calling out for the narcotic pain relief that Dr. Cullen had prescribed for me, but Paul had already been hard at work for most of the day, hanging curtains and scrubbing this and that for me so I wouldn't get my bandage wet. What kind of thanks would that be, for me to make him fix his own sandwich as well? It was funny that I'd resented being forced to cook for Mary and Sonny every day, but with Paul I wanted to feed him, to take care of him...I just felt the need to nurture him for some odd reason.

"You know, I don't expect you to slave from sunup until sundown and then make your own sandwich _honey_," I answered, knowing that he was expecting the endearment from me. "My hand does hurt, but I have some pretty good meds that Dr. Cullen gave me, and I'm not completely helpless, you know?"

I'd mentioned the handsome doctor knowing full well that it would make Paul jealous, and I wasn't disappointed when he growled softly, down deep in his throat. It was a good thing that he was behind me, following me into the teensy bedroom, the only one in the cottage; because I knew that I had a big, dopey grin on my face. I'm not sure why it tickled me so much to make him growl like that, but it did, and I made him do it as much as I could without really making him mad.

I was fairly sure that I heard him mutter something _very _uncomplimentary about the doctor under his breath and the grin on my face grew to a point that it was painful. I made a big show of surveying the room when we walked inside, even though I had already decided that I wanted the bed between the two windows that faced toward the beach. I had to have time to wipe the smile off of my face before I turned around, and though it took a lot of effort to do so, I'd managed to rearrange my expression before I faced him.

"That had to have hurt," he said wryly, raising one eyebrow at me, making my lips twitch with the need to smile once more. "Next time it would probably just be easier to keep that big grin on your face instead of going through so much trouble to pretend that you weren't laughing at me."

I could have tried to deny that I'd been laughing at him, but it would have been a waste of my time, because he'd see right through my lie, not to mention the fact that it went against my grain to be dishonest. I smiled in what I hoped was a sheepish manner and pointed to the wall between the windows.

"Right here would work perfectly for me Paul," I said, realizing the moment that the words left my mouth that to label my words as a double-entendre would have been putting it mildly and I felt my face heat and the smile that I'd meant as guilty was now sliding into a grimace of absolute humiliation. "I...I mean...you can put it...well...I mean..."

He let me splutter and blush for a few moments, a smile spreading on his face that was a tantalizing mixture of satisfaction, humor and sensuality, and then he crossed the floor, stopping right in front of me, near enough that I could feel the heat from his body against my chest. He reached out with one hand, placing a roughened fingertip against my lips.

The contrasts of our flesh meeting heightened my awareness of this very large, very warm, very masculine being that was touching me, his hushing fingertip becoming a soft caress on my lips, making me want in the worst way to kiss against that touch.

"Hush now sweetheart," he murmured, looking deeply into my eyes, giving me that old feeling that he was looking all the way to my heart and soul. "There's no need for you to get so upset...I knew the meaning of your words. I won't pretend that I wouldn't have _loved _for you to have meant something else...but I knew exactly what you meant to say, ok?"

I couldn't say what made me behave so impulsively, but suddenly I knew that I wouldn't be able to resist the urge any longer and I kissed the fingertip grazing across my lips, holding the digit still by grabbing hold of the back of his hand, pressing my mouth once, twice, then a third time before I released him. The room had grown deathly quiet, filled only with the sounds of our breathing and I stared up into the fathomless eyes peering down at me, suddenly shy and self-conscious.

He slowly pulled his hand away, his chest rising and falling with the rapid speed of his breathing, a gamut of emotions passing across his face, his eyes traveling from mine to my lips and I was seized by the knowledge that he was considering kissing me...a real kiss...and a moment later that epiphany was replaced by the fact that I wanted that more than anything in the world.

He reached out with both of his hands and cupped my face, his thumbs tracing along my cheekbones. "I want to do this Lilah," he whispered pleadingly. "I _need_ to do this."

I wasn't sure if he meant to ask my permission, or if he was simply giving me an advance warning, but whatever his meaning I answered by raising myself up onto my tiptoes, running my hands along his shoulders, into his thick black hair. He placed his own hands on my waist, one on each side, and slowly lowered his head, his lips inches away from mine-

"Well shit," he suddenly growled, raising his head to glare out of the window, taking me completely by surprise with the change in the atmosphere and his less than romantic words. "Talk about perfect freakin' timing."

It was then that I heard what sounded like the howling of a wolf, or more accurately, of several wolves. I couldn't understand why that would capture his attention, but it did and with a sound that was a cross between a groan of disappointment and a snarl of frustration he released his hold on me, placing his forehead against mine, breathing deeply.

"I know that this timing sucks nuts sweetheart," he said, rubbing his head back and forth before rubbing his cheek against mine in a caress. "But I've got to get going right now. I know I promised to get the bed done, but-"

I should have been furious, or at the very least irritated, but I'd known that he was on a schedule since he'd arrived earlier in the day. That and I could tell that he was very annoyed, and frustrated, himself, and I didn't want to make him feel any worse than he already did.

"I'm sure that I can stand one night sleeping on the couch," I told him, turning to rush from the room, calling back over my shoulder. "Just let me get you a sandwich and then you can go, ok?"

I wasn't sure whether he answered me or not, I was in too big of a hurry to get his sandwich made, slicing a ham and quickly assembling not one, but two humongous sandwiches, dropping them into a sack with four snack sized bags of chips and a thermos of lemonade.

I turned to find him watching me, a small smile curving his lips; the kind that I was quickly learning made me weak in the knees. I walked up to him and handed him the bag, my hand lingering on his, and I was taken aback once more by the differences in our temperatures...he put a whole new spin on the idea of a guy who was absolutely "hot".

"Thanks sweetheart," he murmured, taking the bag, his fingers tracing along the back of my hand. "Be sure to make yourself a sandwich and take your pills. I'll be back bright and early tomorrow morning to set up that bed and whatever else needs to be done...there's no need for you to make a habit of sleeping on that couch, is there?"

Damn but he was bossy...not that I really minded all that much. It was nice to know that I had someone watching over me, worrying about me. I walked him to the door, smiling as he lifted the sack of food to his nose and breathed deep, sighing appreciatively.

"Oh...make sure that you lock this door after me," he said, reaching out to trail the back of his fingers down my cheek. "You've got to be careful of...predators...out here by yourself."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him, I also managed to fight back the impulse to answer him with a "Sir, yes, sir" or a "Yes, daddy". Of course, now that I thought about it, either of those responses would have no doubt thrilled him. In the end I made do with "I will honey...don't worry about me so much. I can take care of myself, you know."

"I never doubted it for a minute," he answered, turning to run away into the night. "But you also have to understand...it's my pleasure to take care of you Lilah."

Paul's POV

There were parts of my life that I usually loved, being able to run so fast, being super strong and having a rapid healing rate, the rush of adrenaline that filled me when we were hot on a trail, but I had to say, that since I met her, you know, the _one_, the commitments and responsibilities downright...well...they just sucked. How was I supposed to make any progress with Lilah when just as I was getting to the good part I got called away?

The crimson haired parasite was back in the area...no doubt here to finish off a certain leech lover, which said a lot for why Jacob was having an emotional breakdown at the moment. Sheesh...when was he going to see, and acknowledge, that Bella Swan would no more think of him in that way than she would any of us? Like it or not, she was all hot and bothered over Cullen, God only knew why, and she wasn't about to drop him for anybody, least of all for Jacob...but that sure didn't stop him from hoping, did it?

Embry and Quil had been running patrol when they caught the scent of the bloodsucker. Sam had wanted them to wait for him, but Jacob, being the obsessive and overly dramatic little girl that he was had insisted that we set out on the trail, worried sick that the Cullen's weren't watching Bella, yadda, yadda and so we set off on the fresh trail, all but drooling at the idea of biting into some leech flesh. Of course, the others could have also been salivating because they'd caught a whiff of the ham sandwiches I'd devoured on the way to finding them, something that they moaned and bitched about plenty, because I hadn't brought enough to_ share_...damn...what a bunch of whiners.

The whole time that we were running my mind, and those of my brothers, were filled with Jacob's yammering on about Bella and how she could be hurt, how much she meant to him, and that he'd die if anything bad happened to her, and it wasn't long before I was tempted to gouge out my eardrums in self-defense.

_Shit Jake...enough is enough already. It was your idea to take off without Sam, which is going to mean that our asses will be good and chewed once he catches up with us, but is it really necessary that you subject us to this melodramatic tale of woe as well?_

The others had a good laugh at that one, but, as usual, Jacob failed to see the humor in my comment. Did he really think that he was the only one with problems? This chick wasn't even the other half of his heart and soul for chrissakes. I'd been right there, in that tiny bedroom, her hands around my neck, her sweet and soft in all the right places body snuggled up against me, just waiting for me to kiss her when-

I broke off that train of thought quickly, but not quite quickly enough. Quil and Embry slowed their speed until they were right beside me, turning to look at me expectantly.

_Well jeez...don't stop now...you were just getting to the good part. Were her nipples really sticking through her t-shirt like that, or were you just embellishing that part?_

Freakin' Embry...I would be so grateful when, or more likely,_ if_, he ever managed to get himself a woman of his own. Maybe then he wouldn't be so obsessed with the love lives of those around him. I ignored him, of course, quickening my pace to run with Jacob. He may have been an irritating son of a bitch, but at least he wouldn't be imagining my Lilah...or her nipples, for that matter.

We'd been moving at top speed, but the redhead managed to cross the treaty line before we caught up with her and that's when we noticed the Cullen's on their side of the border, running at top speed after our quarry. Jacob searched their group feverishly, though I don't know why he'd think that Bella would be with them, and for that matter, her bloodsucker wasn't amongst their ranks either, so it would appear that all of his worrying had been over nothing.

We spread out in the hopes that she'd cross back over to our side; we sure as hell hadn't come all this way to watch one group of leeches capture another and deal with her, not when that was _our _job dammit. We were traveling too far south, but then the Cullen's did us a favor and chased her back to our side just a few miles north of us. It would have been the perfect spot for us to launch an ambush, if we'd only known where to place ourselves, but we didn't.

Sam had finally made his appearance, bringing with him reinforcements, and caught up to the bloodsucker before we did. We joined up and chased her, watching as she danced from side to side, playing with us, then with the Cullen's, and I growled deep in my throat as I missed snapping hold of her by less than an inch.

Suddenly the big beast of a Cullen dived for her, but she was too fast for him and he sailed right behind her, and the idiot damn near smacked into me as he landed in the icy creek, making me see red. It was bad enough that we had to have a freakin' treaty with a coven of leeches, or that we respected their territory and all of that bullshit, but now I was expected to just forgive and forget, after an infraction like that?

I lost my focus on the redhead and turned my pursuit to the bearish Cullen, springing toward him, intent on tearing out his throat. In the end I missed him, which was pathetic, but was probably also fortunate, and the blond chick, the one that would have been hot, if she hadn't been a damn parasite, got very defensive. Normally I wouldn't think about laying hands on a female in a violent way, but this was a female leech, so those rules went right out the window.

Sam and Jacob flanked me, offering a united front, and were met by the two blond males, their hands raised, hoping to offer a truce. A sudden calm came over me, which made me want to react even more aggressively, but damned if I could. The lead male, the doctor that had treated Lilah, started to speak to Sam, doing his best to smooth things over. The other male continued to look at the pack, one by one, and we grew calm, we couldn't fight his mind, and our respective leaders decided that the redhead was the priority, not them and not us, and we started after her again, each of our groups on the side that belonged to us.

The doctor gave us the line of scent, holding his group back so that we could follow her properly, but we lost her north of the Makah country, right where the line hugs the coast. It was obvious that she'd taken refuge in the water, the one place where our noses wouldn't be worth a damn. The behemoth and the calming one asked permission to follow her, and I grinned to myself when Sam told them no...damned interfering ticks.

We parted ways, both sides pissed that the bitch had gotten away, but I reasoned that she'd be back, giving us another chance at shredding her. It was obvious that she had a hard-on for Bella Swan, a hunger that wouldn't be going away anytime soon, so the opportunity to rid the world of her presence wouldn't be lost to us forever.

I trotted along with my brothers, thinking that I'd grab a little sleep and then I'd get back to my Lilah, but my plans were hampered by Sam's massive shoulder knocking against mine, making me stumble, an action that he repeated with Jacob, and then with Quil, and finally Embry.

_I ought to string you up, one by one, as an example for everyone for what happens when you don't heed an order. This pack needs strong numbers to fight, but what it doesn't need is four hotheaded jackasses who go off halfcocked whenever you damn well please. Bearing that in mind, I've decided that you boys seem to be in need of a little exercise. I'd say that a...let's see...twenty mile run ought to cover it, so get to it._

Ah man...this was absolute bullshit. I could have wasted my time, arguing that it had been Jacob's idea, but I knew that it would have been useless. I was going to be running twenty miles, I wasn't going to get much sleep...but that wasn't going to stop me from seeing Lilah, was it?


	6. This Is Not My Happy Face

Chapter Six

This Is Not My Happy Face

Paul's POV

I had always thought that Sam was one of the luckiest guys in the world, barring the whole Leah incident, because Emily was beautiful and caring, and because she could cook good food and didn't mind feeding a pack of ravenous wolves, but that had been before I met Lilah. It was true that Emily was still a damn good cook, evidenced by the five roasted chickens that we'd just devoured, but there was something missing from the chicken, it just wasn't as good as what Lilah made. It wasn't as juicy, or as flavorful, and though I gobbled down my fair share I found myself thinking that it was a shame that Lilah wasn't there to cook for us.

Of course, I wished that she was there...period. We'd finished setting up her house and she'd mentioned that it was time that she got a job, something in the teaching field, and that was why she hadn't been able to meet me at Emily's for lunch. I'd done my best to keep my general gloominess out of the heads of my brothers, and I had done a pretty good job so far, but for some reason Emily was the one who saw through my fake cheer and came over to me while she cleaned up the mess we'd made, taking a seat next to me at the table.

"This is the hardest part for you, isn't it?" she asked softly, doing me a favor by not drawing any attention to our conversation. "That you always want her, that you have to wait patiently for her, and all of the uncertainty that surrounds you."

She'd pretty well hit the nail square on the head and I nodded, not trusting myself to speak at that moment. The smell of Lilah, which was always in my nose, in my blood, was especially strong at that moment, due to the fact that I'd snatched a pair of her panties the last time I was at her house, a bright purple pair that still bore a trace hint of her scent beneath the detergent and softener. I suppose that it was kind of sick and deviant of me to have taken them, but I was getting desperate dammit. The waiting, for her to notice my feelings, for her to want me, to love me, was hell and worst of all was the uncertainty. What if she never noticed, what if she never returned my feelings? That would kill me for sure.

"I won't say that I understand exactly what you're going through Paul," she continued, furtively reaching over to pat my arm. "But I can say that I know what Sam went through, how he said it made him feel, wanting and loving me so desperately before I was willing to give him a chance. I was conflicted by the fact that I would be hurting Leah in the process, but eventually I couldn't resist him any longer and now we're engaged, we're happy, and I have a feeling that you will be too."

In the not too distant past, had anyone even dared to mention the word "engaged" to me I would have been making tracks to get as far away, as fast as I could, but it was an image that I'd taken to entertaining lately, when I was alone and my mind was safer. I pictured me and Lilah, standing in front of a preacher, dressed in our finest, taking the vows that would bind us together 'til death did we part, and that was the only part that scared me, thinking that one day we would be taken from one another.

As scary as that would have been for me once upon a time, it wasn't the only thought process that had changed for me since I'd looked into my Lilah's big brown eyes. Once upon a time I'd viewed kids as an unnecessary fixture to a man's life, a mistake that he'd made when he'd been too drunk or driven by lust to slip on a very crucial piece of latex before he got down to business, but now, ever since I'd gone and freakin' imprinted, the thought of kiddos who bore a striking image to me and my sweetheart had started up in my mind...and wouldn't leave me alone. I hadn't even managed to kiss this woman yet, and already I was picturing her swollen with my progeny, with little cubs surrounding her...it was just too bizarre.

"But what if she never feels the way about me that I do about her?" I asked, keeping my own voice low, ever mindful of the nosy bastards standing mere feet away. "How do I deal with that? This isn't like the situation with Quil and Claire, where it will be years before there's even the possibility of romance; this is a constant wanting and needing. What if that's all it ever is? How can I live that way, for years on end, Emily?"

She smiled at me, a reassuring kind of smile, rather than a sympathetic one, which was a good sign. I knew that women had insight that men lacked, not that I'd ever admit that to one of them, and if Emily was trying to encourage me where Lilah was concerned, then maybe, more than likely, she had seen something between us that meant that I wasn't putting all of my hope into a lost cause.

"It's very hard for a woman to resist the level of devotion that comes from a man who has imprinted on her," she answered, turning to look at Sam, who instantly met her eyes and smiled, a loving smile that spoke volumes about the way that he felt...as if I didn't already know. God knows we'd all seen way too much of what went on between the two of them to ever doubt the intensity that existed between them. "What woman wouldn't be flattered to know that she means so much to a man, that she is wanted and needed, cherished and revered to such an extent? Lilah is the type of woman who wants those things in her life Paul, and I've seen the way that she looks at you...a woman's eyes don't follow a man so closely unless there's a real yearning there...a genuine desire to have him as her own."

It was something that I had thought, in those moments that I allowed myself the luxury of hope, that she behaved in a way that said that she felt more for me than friendship, even if it was just a little crush. I remembered the times that she had touched my hand, sometimes holding it in her own and of that moment in her bedroom, before we'd been interrupted. She had kissed my fingertip, she had taken that initiative and she would have let me kiss her, if I hadn't had to go chasing after that redheaded leech. She was always fussing over me, taking care of me, and I had caught her watching me lots of times, especially when I had my shirt off, which was often. What if Emily was right? What if she wanted me as much as I wanted her?

I had never known that a heart could smile, and even if someone had told me that it could in the past I would have thought that they were being disgustingly sappy, but that was the closest that I could come to describing what I was feeling at that moment, when I considered the fact that it was a very good possibility that Lilah was at least somewhat hot and bothered about me...that was freakin' awesome, the best of the best.

I was grinning then, probably a gigantic, dopey grin that would have caught everyone's attention and subjected me to the Spanish Inquisition if Jacob hadn't chosen that moment to pull up in his crappy little Rabbit, the resident leech lover, Bella Swan, sitting in the passenger seat, a sight which had my smile dying somewhat, that was until I saw the vision who was seated in the back. A beautiful image that climbed out of the backseat, all pretty and curvy and smiley, balancing what looked to be a...oh, hell yes...homemade peach cobbler in her hands.

It would seem that hearts weren't just capable of smiling, my friend...mine was able to flip somersaults and stand on its head as well.

Lilah's POV

I was supposed to have spent the entire day looking for a job, behaving like a responsible adult, which was necessary if I was going to pay my bills and stay in my new home. I guess that I could make the argument that I had looked all morning long and found nothing, returning home to put the bushel of peaches that I'd snagged at the grocer's to good use, and I could make the argument that cooking could be called a grownup activity, though to say that it was a responsible pastime would probably be stretching the truth just a little.

Of course, I had been thrilled that I had made the dessert when Jacob had shown up and invited me to go along with him to Emily's house. Chances were very good that Paul would be there, and I knew how much he loved peach cobbler. I was also glad that I had made a humongous pan full of it, knowing that the guys would devour more than what should have been humanly possible, and we girls would be lucky if we even got a spoonful of the dessert.

Normally I would have said girls referring to Emily and myself, but there had been a stranger sitting in the passenger seat of Jacob's car when I had hurried out of my cottage, a dark-haired girl with the palest skin that I had ever seen, except perhaps for Dr. Cullen's. It had been quite a chore for me not to gawk at her once I found out that this was Bella Swan, the girl that Jacob was absolutely head-over-heels for and even harder once I found out that she was dating the gorgeous ER doctor's adopted son. First of all, I had to wonder why she'd come with Jacob that day, unless she was completely blind to his very obvious obsession with her, a fixation that she was fueling by spending the day with him, secondly, I found myself flabbergasted that a man who was as young as Dr. Cullen had adoptive children who were in high school, and lastly I found myself speculating whether or not this boy named Edward was anywhere near as good-looking as his adoptive father.

I suppose I could have been rude and subjected her to all of my questions, but I knew that doing so would have embarrassed the hell out of Jacob and I didn't really know her beyond what I'd overheard and so I'd stayed quiet in the backseat, marveling at the tension that was flying between the two people in front of me.

Everyone had seemed glad to see us, though I had a good suspicion that the feelings toward Bella were a little more cautious, and in Leah's case, they were downright hostile, but that was understandable, considering the way that Jacob was always suffering over her. I also got the feeling that the guys had been happier to see my cobbler then they were to see me...except for Paul, that is.

It was always hard to act normal whenever I saw him, to pretend that my heart wasn't leaping around in my chest and that my pulse didn't spike every time I looked at him. A lot of that probably had to do with the fact that he was always shirtless, with his cutoffs riding low on his hips, but there was also the intensity that showed in his eyes every time he looked at me, and the small smile that curved his lips while he watched me. All of these things combined to make a lethal concoction, an environment that made me tingle from head-to-toe...and I wasn't inclined to complain anytime soon.

I loved the mood in Emily's house, the camaraderie between the guys, as well as their good-natured teasing, but the fact that the space was so small, so enclosed, found me sitting very close to Paul, nearly on his lap, as a matter of fact, and it wasn't long before I felt the need to go outside and get some fresh air, not to mention to cool myself down a little bit, which would have worked just fine, if the one who was responsible for my heated blood hadn't followed me out of the door.

I found a little bench under a tree, thankful for the shade, which cooled the light breeze that blew across my skin, helping to lower my temperature, that was until Paul sat next to me on the bench, which was a little too small for both of us. His smoldering hot arm pressed against mine, my skin bared to my shoulder, and I was made even more aware of him in that moment, as if I wasn't suffering enough already. My heart was thumping so loudly that I was sure he could hear it, my pulse was racing and a throbbing ache had started between my thighs, one that grew stronger, more insistent, as his scent filled my nose, the heady aroma of hard work and of earth, of air and of pine, a thoroughly masculine smell that seemed to have been tailor-made to make me feel quivery all over.

I felt him slowly sliding his arm around my shoulder, then his hand squeezing the soft flesh of my upper arm, pulling me even closer to his side, 'til I was nearly sitting on his lap and I was painfully aware of the fact that my nipples were so hard that they hurt, sticking through both my bra and my t-shirt. I could feel that he was looking at me, and I knew he wanted me to turn his way, but I couldn't...it was all too much already and I was afraid of what I might do if I was to look into his eyes.

"I know I'm crowding you a little sweetheart, but I just can't seem to help myself," his voice was low and rough, his mouth warm against my ear and he growled low in his throat as I shivered against him, making the arousal that was already coursing through my veins seem as though it was a living, breathing thing within me. "If I'm overstepping my bounds you need to tell me right now, while I can still control myself, ok?"

I took a deep breath and turned my head, moving so that his lips traveled from my ear across my cheek, stopping when they rested right beside my mouth. "I really can't say that I mind you crowding me," I answered honestly, feeling my heart lift when I felt him smile against my cheek. "And as for whether or not you're overstepping, let me just say that I'm glad that you're taking this matter into your hands, because I don't know if I could have ever found the courage to make the first move."

He raised his hand, which had been rubbing up and down my arm, to my face, turning my head that last little bit, and pressed his lips against my forehead, then onto each cheek, traveling next to each eyelid, then to each side of my mouth. I was touched by his show of affection, and of the tenderness that he conveyed in each touch, but I was quickly losing patience. Now I understood what he'd meant; standing in my room, when he'd said that he wanted, then that he'd needed to kiss me.

"Are you absolutely sure Lilah?" he breathed, nuzzling against my cheek. "There will be no going back to just holding hands after this, sweetheart. I figure that it'll take at least fifty kisses a day to keep me satisfied, once I get that first taste."

It was fortunate that I was sitting, because my knees went completely weak on me as I slid my hands around his neck, shamelessly pressing myself against him, finding the courage I had been so sure that I lacked. "Shut up and kiss me dammit," I growled, tightening my grip on his hair, then closing my eyes as his lips drew closer to my own-

"Well now...isn't that sweet," a voice sounded, interrupting us, an amused and annoyingly familiar voice. Paul drew back enough to place himself in front of me, growling low in his throat as he stared at Sonny, a snarl that caused the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up, but not in the way that I liked. "I guess you guys haven't shown her what really goes on around here, because if you had, she probably wouldn't be so willing to let you paw her...then again, maybe she likes that kind of thing."

The growling intensified to a level of anger that was starting to scare me, even though it wasn't directed at me. I had to wonder what Sonny was babbling about, about the guys keeping secrets from me, like maybe that they were all cannibals or that they were all closet sex addicts who participated in wild orgies...and then the little comment about me liking that sort of thing. It all seemed a little farfetched to me, and considering the fact that it was a twisted little gnome who was making the accusations, I wasn't going to be inclined to believe anything that he said.

"Did she tell you why she left?" he asked, deliberately goading Paul, something that a person much wiser than he'd ever be would have never done. "Did she explain where that burn on her hand came from, did she tell you about me grabbing her and scaring her...I'll bet she didn't tell you about any of that, did she?"

Paul stood up and slowly advanced on Sonny and I started to call for the others, only to see that they were all rushing outside, glancing from Paul to Sonny, Sam's face standing out as he took on that look of authority I'd seen so many times.

"Alright Sonny, that's enough," he said, moving closer to Paul as he spoke. "You need to shut up right now, and Paul, you need to calm down."

All of the muscles in Paul's back rippled beneath his skin and he shrugged away from the restraining hand that Sam laid on his arm, continuing his advance on Sonny. I wasn't particularly concerned with Sonny's wellbeing, if the creepy little runt had been drowning I would have thrown him a cinderblock, but I didn't want to see Paul this way. There was something downright deadly about the way he was creeping toward Sonny, almost like a predator stalking its prey.

"What she couldn't tell you was about all the times that I snuck in to her room and watched her sleep, doing things to myself while she slept, never knowing that I was there. It would have been so easy for me to climb into her bed-"

I was thinking to myself that Sonny had absolutely no sense of self-preservation whatsoever, continuing to goad Paul the way that he was, when suddenly Paul started shaking violently, snarling and growling as his body trembled. I started to rise from my seat, determined to help him, but was stopped by Emily rushing to my side and taking the spot next to me, holding me still against her body.

"You don't want to do that Lilah," she said quietly, but firmly, just as Sam was yelling at Paul to calm down. I fought against her hold, angry that she was keeping me from helping Paul when suddenly my anger turned to shock, then quickly to fear as a scene right out of a horror movie played out before my eyes.

At first I couldn't believe what I was seeing, knowing that I had to be imagining the transformation that took place, believing that the sight of Paul disappearing, his body changing to that of a dark gray wolf, a humongous wolf who bristled and snarled while what looked to be the remnants of Paul's shorts floated down to the ground around it, had to be a figment of my imagination. That was until Sam, or at least the massive black wolf who had been Sam jumped between the gray wolf and Sonny, who should have been terrified, but instead looked strangely pleased, smug as he turned to look at me.

The two wolves faced off, each growling and pawing at the ground, and then launched into an attack against one another, causing Emily to stiffen and gasp beside me. The other guys advanced on Sonny and escorted him off of the property, Embry's foot coming up to hit him in the ass whenever he tried to drag his feet, while the two wolves disappeared into the forest, the sounds of their fighting still as clear as though they hadn't moved at all. The happy day that we'd enjoyed forgotten as the women were left alone.

I had figured out that Emily knew all about the secret that Sonny had been hinting at, what he'd provoked Paul into revealing, and that pissed me off, anger that grew when I saw that Bella was completely unsurprised by what she'd just witnessed as well. Just when were they going to tell me anyway? Were they going to wait until after things between Paul and I had gone too far for me to turn back, or maybe they'd never meant to tell me at all...whatever the answer I already knew that I didn't really care...I'd had all that I could handle and I wasn't going to be back for any more.


	7. It's Kind Of Romantic, Isn't It?

Chapter Seven

It's Kind Of Romantic, Isn't It?

Lilah's POV

It had been one of those weeks which were so dreadful that its miseries could only be surpassed by a catastrophic event that involved bloodshed, and when I say that I mean the "arterial spray that signified immanent death" sort of bloodshed. I hadn't waited around at Emily's for anyone to offer me some horseshit explanation about the fact that Sam and Paul could magically transform into werewolves, that would have surely sent me over the edge into homicidal territory and in the end I had planted myself at the end of the driveway, far from the house, and had called a cab to pick me up...and things had gone seriously downhill from there.

After days of searching I had finally found a job, not a continuation of my career in teaching bright young minds, the occupation I'd studied for, oh no, I had found a position that required me to be on my feet for eight hours, slinging hash for groups of regulars whose idea of a good tip was one buck, which was true, when they were having a cup of coffee, but not when they brought their entire family in. I wasn't inclined to disrespect those who spent a lifetime waiting on others, I respected their dedication and endurance...it just wasn't something I'd spent _my_ life dreaming of, that's all.

Then there'd been Sonny, the slimy little maggot who'd started this whole damn episode of melodrama, making my life into somewhat of a soap opera, one that involved werewolves, for chrissakes. I'd been forced to meet him at the door of my cabin, the shotgun my dad had given me tucked into my shoulder, before he'd finally taken the hint that it would be best if he stayed away from me. It was kind of surprising that Paul hadn't killed him yet, I mean it wasn't as though he didn't have the ability, but somehow the bastard was still breathing...he was as resilient as any cockroach, I suppose.

To top everything off, as though my life hadn't been enough of a headache, my phone rang day and night, everyone from Sam to Embry begging me to give Paul another chance, to understand that they hadn't been lying to me, that the subject just hadn't come up, and then there were the calls from the man himself, begging me to hear him out. I thanked God that he hadn't actually elected to show up in person, because the act of listening to him plead, on my answering machine, was heartbreaking enough, I knew that I couldn't have stood it if I'd had to look at his face while he implored me to forgive him and give him another chance.

I'd just returned to my cottage, intent on showering away the greasy smell that clung to me, an aftermath of my shift at the café, cleansing it from my skin and hair when a knock sounded at the door, a soft, but insistent knock. I was tempted to ignore the sound, to head for the bathroom and luxuriate myself in the warm flow of my shower, pretending that I was the only one alive in the world, but for some damn reason I was drawn to the door and turned to find Emily standing there, peering at me through the glass panes. She was another one who'd felt the need to frequently "reach out and touch" me, another that I'd disregarded, but it was clear that she wasn't going to be ignored any longer.

I opened the door and stared at her, surely leaving her in little doubt of how I was feeling, so it came as somewhat of a surprise when she threw her arms around me and held me close. "We've been so worried about you Lilah," she said in a scolding tone of voice. "Why didn't you answer the phone? Do you have any idea what Paul has been going through? He's been beside himself, beating himself up, and even though it was almost physically painful for him to do so he stayed away, he said he wouldn't come here unless you invited him."

Her chastisement deflated my temper somewhat, not completely, but enough that I didn't remind her that they had all lied to me, that his dishonesty had been the worst, and that I didn't owe them a damn thing. The truth of the matter was that I had behaved badly, by ignoring the messages on my machine, acting like a child as opposed to letting them know how I felt, and to hear how torn up Paul was made me feel like a completely cruel person. How would I feel if the situations were reversed? I don't think that I could imagine myself transforming into a werewolf, but what if I was and he had tossed me aside because of it, refusing to see or speak to me? That would be absolutely awful...no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

"I never meant to worry anyone," I answered, gently untangling myself from her arms. "The truth of the matter was that I didn't have anything nice to say to any of you, so I thought that it would be best to not say anything at all. And I'm sorry that Paul has been...suffering...because of me. I just don't know how I can face him after what happened...what would I say to him Emily?"

She stood still, staring at me for a moment, then placed her hand on my arm, leading me to the couch that dominated my tiny living room, taking a seat and pulling me down beside her. "There is a lot of information that you need, that you have to know, now that you've seen Paul and Sam. I'm sure that you are aware of the dangers that fill the world, from what I've seen from you; you know that evil exists in the world. Am I right?"

Of course I knew that evil existed, how could I not? It wasn't a pleasant part of life, but it was a reality, and in some ways, a necessity, but what did that have to do with what I'd seen? Oh no...Surely she wasn't trying to tell me that Paul and Sam made up a part of that evil, was she? That would wipe away any chance that may have remained that I could forgive and forget...there was no way that I could stand beside any sort of wickedness, or any harm to those who were innocent.

She must have seen the alarm that I was feeling on my face, and she quickly continued with her explanation. "Because of the fact that evil exists all over the world, it is essential that there are those who step into the role of guardian of those around them. They sacrifice themselves to that cause, and in some cases, have no choice whatsoever to safeguard those around them. Sam and Paul have made that sacrifice...along with others that you have met...and they are admired, held in the highest regard by the tribe."

Was there a criminal on the loose that I was unaware of? I had never gotten the feeling that it wasn't safe on the Rez...in fact it seemed as though everyone walked a very straight line, and maybe this was the reason why, the adopted guardians of the Quileute people, a pack of werewolves, of all things...it was just too freaky to wrap my mind around.

"There is so much to fear in the world, so many heinous acts perpetrated on innocent people every day, as you well know, but the...pack...only has one enemy, one group that they protect our people...all people...from." She turned toward me on the couch, her face and eyes growing very serious. "There are beings that we whisper of in stories to one another, or that we read of in novels and watch in movies, that we even dress up as on Halloween, but that we really don't believe in. Do you doubt, at all, what you witnessed, the...transformations...that took place in Paul and Sam?"

I looked at her incredulously, laughing sarcastically. "Well, yes Emily," I answered, rolling my eyes and shaking my head. "Granted that I do have a very active imagination, but somehow I don't think I made-up what I saw...what we all saw."

"The reason that I asked was because I had to know if you were willing to accept the truth of what you witnessed, that some creatures of folklore are a reality, that there are some things that exist that we've been told were only fairytales, or maybe just cautionary stories meant to scare people. Now...knowing what you do about the pack, can you accept that other...creatures...exist among us, ones that force the protectors to take the form of the wolf and destroy that which threatens our people, and the people whose land borders our own? Are you willing to hear the truth, with an open mind and heart?"

I couldn't imagine what myth come true could be worse than werewolves, but my mind raced with a variety of possibilities. In horror movies werewolves were always among the worst of the worse, huge, monstrous creatures intent on at the very least biting you, making you one of them once the next full moon set, or the more likely outcome, tearing you from limb to limb-wait a minute...the sun had been high in the sky the day that Paul had metamorphosed...weren't werewolves required to have the light of the full moon to transform?

"Just tell me what you came to say Emily," I said, impatient to hear the whole truth. "You can trust in the fact that I will believe anything you tell me, after what I've seen, whether I want to or not."

"There will be a gathering of some of our tribe soon, elders and those who will record the telling of our legends, and I want you to attend. What they have to say about all of this will make more sense than what I can tell you. I know that you would believe me, after what you have seen already, but they will tell the whole story, our origins. All I will tell you of our enemy is that they are old, they are monsters, and it is essential, for everyone, that the boys are what they are."

That was absolute crap...first she said that she would tell me the truth, and now that I was dying to know she was reneging on me? My face must have broadcast my growing temper, because she raised her hands in an action that told me not to throw a fit. "I haven't told you the most important thing Lilah, the main reason that I came to speak to you. I want you to know about the bond that exists between Sam and I, why he can't stand to be far away from me for very long, and why Paul is suffering so much right now."

I felt a surge of pain and of guilt, knowing that he was suffering, though I wasn't sure why. We hadn't exactly been a couple after all, and I was the one who'd been lied to, but I still felt horrible, knowing that I was the one responsible for his misery. "I never meant to make him so unhappy," I said, frowning as I thought of his face, always smiling or making a joke, looking miserable and forlorn instead. "I wish he knew that was never my intention."

"For him, to know that you were so angry at him, that was very painful," she said, reaching over to pat my hand in a consoling manner. "But even worse was to be forced to be away from you every day...that separation was absolute agony for him."

I started to speak, to offer some sort of apology, but she interrupted me. "There is another, I guess you could say, _experience_ that occurs for some members of our tribe, an event even rarer than shape shifting, and that is when one of them lays eyes upon the person who exists to give their life purpose, their companion for life, the other half of their soul. This is a concept romanticized all throughout the world, but with their kind, it truly is a bond made for life. They simply cannot live without the one that they imprint upon. I am that person for Sam...And you are that person for Paul."

As I sat back weakly against the couch, striving to absorb her words, I felt a fluttering begin in my stomach, moving up to my heart, a quivering of shock, of panic, and of excitement. I had always been a woman who wanted to marry, to have children, and I had to admit, at least to myself, that in my most secret moments I _had _imagined a life with Paul...one I thought would always remain just that, a fantasy, and now it was within my grasp...if that was what I really wanted.

"Are you okay, Lilah?" Emily asked, watching me worriedly, like she was afraid that I might have a breakdown or pass out at any moment. "I know that it can be a lot to process, like I said, I've been in your shoes, but it's nothing to be scared of, you know, especially since you don't detest him or anything...thank God it's not that turd Sonny, huh?"

I laughed out loud, then made retching sounds and rolled my eyes in disgust. "That would be one attachment that would go unfulfilled, that's for damn sure," I said, thinking of the sawed-off runt who'd been a continuous pain in my ass since I'd arrived. "And yes, I'm fine, just a little; make that a lot, flabbergasted, if you know what I mean?"

She smiled and nodded...of course she knew what I meant...hadn't she just told me that she was to Sam what I was to Paul? That was very interesting to me, because more than once I'd watched the two of them together and thought how lucky they were, to be so happy, to be so much in love...and now I had the same opportunity, if I was just brave enough to embrace it.

"Will you do me a favor?" I asked, smiling when she immediately nodded her answer. "Tell Paul that I don't want him to be a stranger any longer...tell him that he is welcome here...that he will always be welcome here."

Paul's POV

It was good to be back home, because that was the way that I thought of her, as being the center of my universe, the place where I would always be safe, where I would always belong. It had been bad enough knowing that she was furious with me, knowing that she was thinking hateful things about me, probably hoping that something horribly painful would happen to me, that she sat by a ringing phone, refusing to answer out of spite, but it had been an absolute torment, being kept from her, from her smile, her voice, her smell...everything I loved so desperately. I owed Emily big time for putting a good word in for me, though I still wasn't sure how I was going to handle the big imprinting talk...not to mention how she'd handle learning the truth about the leeches that were all around...and how she'd react once she realized that the good Dr. Cullen, who she thought was the cat's meow, was a freakin' bloodsucker...things could get real damn ugly, real damn quick...I just hope she didn't toss me aside again...once was more than enough for that special variety of hell, thank you very much.

I stood on her porch, knowing that she was in her bed, asleep, because the hour was so late. I would have liked to have arrived earlier, to have actually been able to see her, but I'd been too useless for rounds all week, and everyone had covered for me, and I hadn't felt comfortable asking them to do so again. It would have been enough anyway, just to stand on her porch, welcome once more, but then I noticed the note that she'd taped to her door.

_P._

_When I said that you were welcome here, I meant that you should think of this as your home now. _

_L._

_P.S. The door is open...there's clean sheets and blankets waiting for you on the couch...and the fridge is stocked...don't be afraid to use it._

On one hand I was thrilled by her note, overjoyed by the fact that she wanted me in her home, close to her, and on the other hand I was stunned by the fact that she'd left a note like that, taped to her front door, the one that was unlocked, the freakin' door that any bastard, intent on rape and murder, could have just casually strolled through. I was quickly losing my firm grip on my temper and talked to myself, calming myself down as I opened the door and went inside, my knees nearly buckling beneath me from the strength of her scent, floral and musky and feminine, all throughout every room.

I helped myself to a few sandwiches, demolishing a bag of chips that I found in the cupboard, washing it all down with a pitcher of lemonade, and thought that I was full, but then I found the Tupperware filled with chocolate chip cookies, and thought to myself that she was probably expecting me to try them out, and not to do so would be rude, so I helped myself to six. After the enjoyable chore of eating was done I found that I was exhausted and made my way to the couch, intending to make it up, but the smell of her was even more intense on the bedclothes. They were freshly washed, but I had learned from stealing her panties that laundry soap and softener didn't quite cover her scent and I raised the sheet to my nose, deeply inhaling her bouquet and groaned, closing my eyes, picturing her laying in her bed, wrapped in this sheet, lost in sleep, maybe dreaming about me, trailing her hand over her breast, down her belly, onto her hot and dampened-

Well, that was just freakin' great...I went around in a heightened state of arousal every time I was around her anyway, so it wasn't like I had needed to summon up the images that were currently wreaking havoc in my mind, but what else had I expected? I hadn't exactly lived the life of a monk, unless there were a lot of monks that went around having knowledge of the female body in a thoroughly biblical manner, but this was different. I couldn't even remember any of those women that I'd been with, all I could think of was her, my Lilah, and I couldn't even tell you anything about her, other than what my overactive imagination had cooked up.

The part of my mind that devoted it's time to being ethical and honorable griped at me to cease my lustful thoughts and put the damn sheet on the couch. Then it started bitching about how I always did this kind of thing and how I needed to go to sleep. I normally would have seen the wisdom in its words, and would have made-up my bed and did my best to ignore what I wanted more than anything. I would have lay down and made myself pay no attention to the lust coursing through my body. I would have forced myself to go to sleep, but tonight was different. I told my principled side to shut up and made my way to Lilah's bedroom, assuring Mr. Goody Two Shoes that I just wanted a peek...just one peek...and then I would go to sleep...I promised.

Her door opened quietly, I could have slipped in and never woken her, but I found myself frozen in the doorway. The moon was full in the sky and was shining through the gossamer curtains that covered the twin windows that framed her bed, filling the room with its ethereal luminance...ah jeez...I was starting to let this romance stuff get to me...since when did I go around, saying...well, _thinking_...about gossamer and ethereal and luminance...anyways, the room was bright enough that I could see her clearly. She was dressed, dammit, in a nightgown that looked comfortable, but which covered her too much for my liking. The only good thing about it was that it bared her legs up to mid-thigh, but the bad thing was that she'd opened her windows that night before going to bed and then had tossed her covers aside sometime in the night and the air had grown a little chilly. She was nearly curled up in a ball on her bed, clearly shivering and I growled deep in my throat, telling my good side that I didn't have a choice in the matter...she was cold, so that meant I _had _to do more than peek.

I took a deep breath, which was meant to strengthen me, but turned out to be a big mistake. Her smell, which had been tormenting me since I'd entered the house, did more than just fill my nose, it infused itself in my thoughts, and in the pounding pulse that surged through my body...damn...there I went again. If this kept up I was liable to start having a complete Massengill moment, spouting flowery poetry or watching _Titanic_ and crying like a baby, for chrissakes. Anyway, I made my hard-on stand even more at attention, so much now that it was becoming painful, and cursing quietly beneath my breath I crossed the room to her bed, watching the even rise and fall of her chest, smiling at the way she slightly puckered her lips while sleeping, almost like she was asking for a kiss.

I bent by the bed, contemplating her lips, and thought that there was no reason that I shouldn't take her up on her offer. I grabbed her covers with one hand, taking the time to admire her short, but shapely legs up close before I covered them, then started to lean forward, fully intending to taste her at last when a scrap of paper resting near her hand caught my attention. I picked it up and unfolded it, recognizing her handwriting immediately.

_P._

_I'm glad that you decided to stay and I assume that you helped yourself to some food, and hopefully, the cookies. I'm also going to assume that you made-up your bed on the couch and you are standing here, reading this, because curiosity got the best of you and you thought that you'd take just one peek, an idea that obviously fled you if you're standing this close to my bed. I don't blame you for being curious...that's normal and to be expected...but if you're thinking of sneaking another peek or anything naughty like that, let me advise you that it would be unwise of you to do so...and your balls would never fully recover from the damage that I would inflict upon them. Sweet dreams honey...I'll see you in the morning._

_L._

I smiled and tucked the note into my pocket; bending forward to kiss her forehead before rising to my feet to leave...it would appear that my chivalrous side and my Lilah were in cahoots with one another...dammit.


	8. Fireside Tales

Chapter Eight

Fireside Tales

Paul's POV

I would imagine that it was quite a sight for those on the perimeter of me and my brothers, watching us consume the amount of food that we did, especially when that food was something of questionable origin, possibly made from the lips and peckers of pigs, like the hot dogs we'd all just gobbled down by the dozen, and judging by the look on my Lilah's face, it was clear that she thought I was just as much of a pig, but I couldn't help it...and damned if I wasn't still hungry. I stared at the very last hot dog, the one that Jacob had skewered on a wire hanger, roasting it over the open flame, my mouth watering, thinking how good it would be, despite the dozen I'd already scarfed down, along with a huge bag of chips and a two liter bottle of root beer.

"Hey, Jake," I said, capturing the attention of my pack mate, the one making an ass of himself, as usual, by fawning over a chick who spent her free time getting handsy with a damned bloodsucker. "Are you going to eat that last dog, or sit there and play with it all night?"

The little bastard looked over at me and smiled smugly, leaning back against Bella's knees, patting his stomach with his hand. "I guess I don't have a choice," he said sadly, though his eyes were practically dancing with humor. "I'm so full that I could puke, but I wouldn't want to be wasteful, you know?"

It was childish of me to get so riled up over a freakin' hot dog, but I couldn't help myself. My hands curled into fists at my sides and I growled low in my throat at him. He was showing off for his girl, or rather, for the chick that he _wished_ was his girl, which was what any guy would do, but he was getting a little too mouthy for his own good and it had been awhile since I'd had a good scrap, a little over a week, and what better way to finish off a good meal?

"Jeez Paul, I was just messing with you," he said, tossing me the hanger...and the last hot dog. "I was going to give it to you...there's no need to get your panties in a twist."

I caught the hanger and told him thanks, already over my brief flare of temper, though I still wouldn't have minded sinking my teeth into him, the smartass. He felt more confident, sure of himself, whenever Bella was with him, but that was no reason for him to start entertaining delusions of grandeur, the little whiner.

Lilah, who'd been watching the entire exchange with a smile on her face, moved closer to me, nearly making me choke on the hot dog when I felt the soft fullness of her boobs pressed against my arm. "Don't forget that I brought some brownies for dessert," she whispered, leaning forward to rub the tip of her nose against my cheek. "There's no need for you to tear Jacob limb from limb for the last wienie."

I don't know what was making my mouth water more, the promise of homemade brownies...or her boobs...or her touching me the way she was...or her boobs...or her whispering things like "wienie" in my ear…or her boobs. I guess you could say that it was a combination of all of those things...all of it was making me nuts. I still wasn't sure exactly what had been said between her and Emily, but the change in her had been almost immediate, our casual flirting and intense glances turning to an easy intimacy and comfortable atmosphere that was more suited to people who'd been together for a while. Don't get me wrong...I sure as hell wasn't complaining...but a little smooching and slap and tickle would be a nice accessory to this new environment, don't you think?

"Don't say that too loud," I whispered back, surreptitiously rubbing my arm back and forth across her chest, smiling to myself when I felt her nipples come to life, making her whimper just the tiniest bit. "If these guys get wind of the fact that you brought brownies I'm screwed, I'd probably only get five or six, if I'm lucky. As for leaving Jacob's limbs intact...we'll have to wait and see on that one, won't we?"

She smothered a snort of laughter and rose from her seat beside me, causing the crotch of my shorts to become very tight, very quickly, while I watched her walk away, dressed in a tight tank top that bared enough of her midriff to make it indecent, not offensive to _me_, but to the fact that the younger pups were looking a little too appreciatively at her, and a pair of cutoff blue jeans whose hem ended mid-thigh, showing off the short, pretty legs that drove me crazy. It was enough of a torture, to watch her sashay her way across the beach, her rounded ass making me seasick swaying back and forth the way it was, but then she went and bent over to presumably take the brownies from the bag she'd brought with her, and I damn near lost all sense of self-control I possessed, which wasn't much, I guaran-freakin'-tee you.

Oh, damn...did she have any idea what it did to me, presenting her sweet plumpness, just about offering herself up on a platter to me, the way she was? How was I supposed to try and act like a gentleman when she went around doing things like that? What was even worse was the fact that Embry, the horny little bastard, and some of the younger ones had seen her display herself as well, and were all turned to grin at me leeringly.

I've got to say Paul, the brownies she was trying to keep secret smell pretty damned good, but even they pale in comparison when a man has a sight like that to lay his eyes on, wouldn't you agree?

It wouldn't be wise of me to rip Embry's head off, it was an action that would definitely be frowned upon, but for the life of me I couldn't think of one reason that would make it a bad idea in my mind. If there was one sin that a pack mate could commit that could be considered unforgivable, outside of defying the Alpha, it had to be making no secret of the fact that you were openly lusting after a brother's imprint. I knew damn well that Embry would never have tried something like that with Emily, knowing what Sam would do to him, and I had to wonder at him having the balls to try it out with me, balls that I'd gladly rip from his body, paint them festive colors and sprinkle them with glitter so that I could hang them off of his ears like Christmas decorations.

_If you continue this line of thought Embry, you won't have the teeth left in your head to bite into any of those brownies...and that will be the least of your problems, you catch my drift? So if I was you, which thankfully I'm not, and I wanted to go on breathing and functioning in my full capacity I'd direct my eyes to a sight which hasn't already had a claim staked on it, savvy_?

He wasn't happy with my threats, I hadn't expected him to be, but he did avert his eyes from my Lilah, as she made her way back to my side with a Tupperware full of chocolaty goodness, and he smacked his younger companions on the side of the head to encourage them to do the same. He was basically a good guy and a hell of a lot easier to stomach than Jacob was, but he needed to learn some respect, for chrissakes.

"I would have thought you'd be happy at the prospect of dessert," Lilah murmured, prying the lid from her container with a pop, holding it up in invitation to those around us. "But judging by that scowl on your face I'd say that maybe I overestimated my prowess in the field of baking."

Dammit...I might have known that she'd see my face and misinterpret my expression. My anger toward Embry swelled, enough so that he shot a worried look in my direction as he snagged, let me see, three brownies, and I chuckled to myself when he put two of them back.

"Sweetheart, you should know by now that you're the best cook around," I said, leaning forward to nip her on the earlobe, a little love bite. "And if I had my way, no one else would taste these brownies tonight...especially Embry and the pups."

She arched her back against me when she felt my teeth on her flesh, gasping in perhaps shock as well as excitement, a sound that I would swear I felt in my...well...you know. In that moment I forgot all about the fact that I was still a little pissed off, I forgot about the brownies enough that the pan was nearly emptied by everyone else right in front of me; I forgot that we were completely surrounded by a group of nosy bastards who could hear every thought in my mind, all I was aware of was me, of her, and of the tantalizing scent rising up from her that had not one damned thing to do with home baked chocolate goodies.

I reached with one hand and pulled her thick, dark hair away, exposing the nape of her neck and softly pressed my lips against the skin there, breathing in the combination of her shampoo and the perfume that teased me every time I was near her. She made another noise now, one that was a mix of her previous gasp and a small moan of, could it be, pleasure? I was pretty experienced with the noises that women made when they were turned-on, but this wasn't just any woman, this was my Lilah, and while I was pretty sure that she was enjoying the feel of my lips on her skin, I couldn't be sure, not without a little more experimentation, which I would have happily thrown myself into, had Sam not chosen that moment to freakin' interrupt us.

"Hey guys," he greeted us, a rueful smile on his face, and a knowing look in his eyes. There was little doubt that he'd been in this very situation himself, but that didn't mean that he was going to cut me a break, did it? "We're just about ready to start the legends."

_Dammit Sam...Your timing really sucks nuts, you know? I've been on a freakin' roller coaster this past week, up and down and up and down to the lowest level of Hell, and now that I'm back up, in the clouds even, you've decided to interrupt us? I know that you're the Alpha, I respect that completely, but couldn't you give us a little time, even five minutes_?

Lilah had already pulled away from me, rising to make her way to the group settling around the bonfire, and I longed to grab her hand, to pull her down next to me, then into my arms, but I knew a losing battle when I saw one. It would seem that, once again, for the umpteenth time, my romantic attempts were going to go unfulfilled, leaving me frustrated and in a very pissy mood.

_You know that she has to hear the truth, don't you Paul? She has to know the dangers that surround everyone, and why we are the way we are. It can't be helped that you were hoping to have some alone time with your woman...how many times do you think I've been in your shoes? You respect my title, and my authority, but bear in mind the responsibility I've shouldered...and the times that I've been made to walk away from Emily...it might stifle your bitching...if nothing else will work._

He turned and walked away from us, leaving me stewing, that was until Lilah turned to look at me, smiling as she held out the Tupperware I'd assumed was empty. "I saved some brownies for you, honey," she said, lowering it to show me that instead of no goodies at all, I had five waiting for me. "I was afraid that I might have to wrestle some of them away from the guys, but in the end all it took was a stern look to get them to back off."

The majority of my residual anger had melted away when she met my eyes with her own, and the rest had fled while I laughed and helped myself to all of the brownies...at least I got to taste a little sweetness tonight, even if it wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind.

Lilah's POV

The beach was slowly becoming deserted, it was very late and the bonfire was slowly dying down, though I was still warmed by its flame, my face bathed in its glow. I'd been sitting that way long before the legend telling had reached its end, the story burrowing into my mind, playing out like a scene from a movie, and I was still dumbfounded, unable to move, seeing the image over and over as the Cold Ones attacked the village, of the beautiful and terrible woman, intent on revenge, and the sacrifice of the Third Wife.

There was no reason that I could think of to doubt what I'd heard, about the existence of a creature that'd been both vilified and romanticized. Werewolves, or rather, shape shifters were a reality, so why should it be so surprising that vampires were as well? It would have been much easier on my brain if I'd been able to declare the legends fairytales and to assume that all of the people who'd sat with me tonight were out of their ever-loving minds...loony freakin' tunes...but the truth of the matter was that life was never easy, and judging by my current position at the center of Crazy, but True, Town, it was only going to get harder before things leveled out.

Bella Swan had been seated on the side of me that Paul hadn't occupied, and I'd found myself wondering whether or not she was shocked by what we heard as I was, and judging by her calm demeanor, I'd say that she wasn't. If anything, it seemed as though she'd heard the story before, almost as though she knew it by heart, though she was still awed by it. It dawned on me then, the characteristics of the cold ones who'd made a treaty with the pack, their leader and his yellow eyes and I thought of Dr. Cullen, of his pallid, ice-cold skin, and his beautiful golden eyes. It could have just been a coincidence, but if it had been, it would have been one hell of a fluke; after all I'd heard tonight. It just didn't make sense though, the idea of Dr. Cullen as a cold-blooded murderer, not when I'd seen the kindness in his eyes, not when I'd felt the gentleness of his touch and his compassionate nature, but his appearance, paired with Bella's knowledge of what we'd heard tonight, cemented the truth for me.

"How many are there?" I asked, watching the flames dance their final rhythm, dying amongst the banked ashes. "Do I even want to know, Paul?"

He started at the sound of my voice, at the first words that I'd uttered since before the storytelling had begun. It had been cruel of me, I knew, sitting there as still as a stone, staring into the fire, but I'd been stricken dumb by what I'd learned, and it had taken awhile for the numbness to begin leaving my body. I thought at first that he'd gone to sleep beside me, but then I realized that he'd been watching me the whole time, obviously worried, and he seemed relieved that I'd finally come out of my stupor.

"I can't say for sure," he said, his lip curled, his voice filled with disgust as he thought of them, of his enemy. "Too damn many...enough to make my skin crawl."

"Dr. Cullen?" I asked, fervently hoping he'd deny it, feeling my heart sink when he nodded. "What about his family...do they know?"

He didn't answer verbally, he just turned to look at me, and my heart sank, my stomach turned over when I thought of a houseful of vampires, despite their dietary restrictions, living so close to those who had no idea who they really were...and Bella Swan...in love with a vampire...how was that possible?

I suppose that my judgment of her was a little hypocritical, considering the man seated beside me, the one that I was absolutely crazy about, the one who could turn into a wolf of all things, but how could she stand that pale, freezing flesh on her skin? I couldn't imagine what it would be like to snuggle up to someone who felt like a block of ice. I preferred warmth, like that which radiated from the heater who sat patiently, devotedly, at my side.

"I guess your life would have been a lot easier if you'd never met me, huh?" he said almost sadly, reaching out his hand to run the backs of his fingers down my arm. "If I'd never looked at you, imprinted on you, making it essential that I be in your world every day, you never would have known about any of this, about me, and you could have gone on blissfully unaware, happier then you are right now."

I looked at him incredulously, feeling my temper sparking to life. I reached out and pressed my hand to his, palm to palm, hoping that everything that I was feeling was showing in my eyes. "Maybe it would be easier for me if I just hid under my bed for the rest of my life," I answered, my voice quiet, yet vehement in tone. "But that wouldn't be too damned realistic, would it? It would kind of make me a wimp, and I would have never known you, which wouldn't have made my life any better, I can assure you. I kind of like having you there every day, to tell you the truth...I'd be very lonely without you...and you're kind of pissing me off right now, telling me that I'd be better off without you."

For a moment he just stared at me, then a slow smile started to curve his lips, that damned smile that made me feel like my tummy was filled with butterflies, the one that made my blood heat, making me hot from my head to my toes, concentrating itself between my thighs. "And that was a hell of a way for you to mention the whole imprinting thing," I continued, doing my best to sound angry, and failing miserably. "So much for romance, so much for my girlish fantasies, just an "Oh, by the way...I kind of imprinted on you babe...sorry I screwed up your life."

He didn't seem the least bit sorry, as a matter of fact, a twinkling started up in his eyes, and the smile on his face grew to the point where it had to be hurting him. "I didn't mean to just blurt it out the way I did," he whispered, removing his hand from mine, gently cupping my cheek, his thumb caressing my flesh. "I'm sorry for that, sweetheart. I'm kind of new to this whole romance thing, you know?"

I was pretty sure that he had plenty of experience charming the pants off of every woman he came across, and I meant that quite literally, but seduction and romance, while being two very important pieces to the puzzle of love, were often mutually exclusive, not needing the other to exist, though I wouldn't complain if he wanted to challenge himself and offer both of them to me at the same time.

"I guess that other guys have dealt with this part of the relationship before, telling their girl how they feel about them. Don't get me wrong...I've said the words before...but I was...well...you know...lying...when I did. This is the only time I've ever wanted to say them, because it's the way that I feel, and it kind of blows my mind to know that I'll never say them to anyone else."

It was kind of mind-blowing for me as well, I was a girl who'd heard the words in those situations where the guy was desperate to get into my pants, but I'd never had a situation like this, with a guy that I knew would mean them completely, that he not only loved me, but was consumed by me as well.

"Does it ever feel kind of unfair to you?" I asked, putting voice to the one concern that had plagued me ever since Emily had told me about imprinting. "I mean, it's not like you have a say-so in the matter, and maybe I'm not who you would have chosen, had you been able to choose your own woman."

He made a noise, something that was a mixture of a laugh and a snort and shook his head at me. "You are the exact woman that I would have chosen Lilah, but my damn mouth would have screwed everything up before I could have gotten you even halfway interested in me. The fact that I'm obsessed with you has made me more determined, more tenacious, than I would have been in the past, and it has helped me to behave myself, but no...I never feel trapped...and even if I was, and you were the one threatening to keep me as your prisoner, I'd happily chain myself to the freakin' wall...so never think for a minute that I feel like I've been forced into this, ok? It pissed me off a little, in the beginning, but I've more than gotten used to it, sweetheart."

He moved his hand from my face and turned on the huge piece of driftwood that had acted as a seat for us, placing one leg on each side, and scooted up close to me, so close that I could feel his breath on my face. "Looking into your eyes was like seeing the sun rising over the mountains for the first time, it felt like spring rain on my skin, it smelled like freshly cut grass, it-"

He broke off and looked away from me, obviously embarrassed, and I put my hand against his cheek, drawing his eyes back to my own. "Don't stop now," I whispered, leaning forward to kiss each of his cheeks. "For someone not used to romance you were doing pretty damned good, honey."

I heard each intake of breath from him as my lips grazed his flesh, and a delicious tingle shivered through me when he growled deep in his throat. "It was like I'd been away for a long time, missing everything and everyone, and when I looked into your eyes...I was home again." He placed a hand on each of my cheeks, looking deeply into my eyes. "I love you Lilah, I have since that moment in Mary's kitchen, and I always will."

He leaned forward, holding my gaze until the moment his lips touched mine, and then his eyes fluttered closed, prompting me to follow suit. It wasn't the first time that I'd been kissed by a man, but it was the first time that I'd been kissed by a man who knew what he was doing, and he was turning me inside out, just with that first gentle, searching touch of his lips. He didn't try to rush me; he didn't force my mouth open, didn't try to taste my stomach with his tongue. He explored me, tasted me, but all with a tenderness I'd never experienced, never expected, before. It wasn't that he kept his tongue away from me, but it was a soft study of my mouth, shyly asking permission before parting my lips and enjoying what he found, showing me that it was possible to completely lose myself in a moment, in something so simple, so intoxicating, as our first kiss...it was romance personified, it was magic...it was love.


	9. Getting Friendly With the Bloodsuckers

Chapter Nine

Getting Friendly With the Bloodsuckers

Lilah's POV

I didn't think it was the least bit fair that I couldn't go along with Paul to the meeting with the Cullen's. Emily said that it was best for us to stay behind at her home while the boys took the next step in an uneasy alliance with the vampires; she said that the pack would be under enough pressure as it was, and while I could see the wisdom in her theory I still didn't like it. If Bella Swan was going to be allowed to be there, and she wasn't a vampire or a member of the pack, then why couldn't I be there as well?

It was probably making Emily and Kim crazy, my incessant need to pace the floor and mutter to myself, flying to the window to look out every time I heard a noise, but if they were in danger of losing their minds, they were doing an admirable job of pretending otherwise, sitting at the table with Claire, helping the little one piece together a puzzle and smiling at her continuous chattering. Normally I loved children, and would have been happy to sit with them, adding my own laughter to the mix, thoroughly entertained by the child, but with my nerves on edge as they were I knew that there was no way that I could sit still and enjoy myself.

I hadn't really been able to get much information out of anyone, other than the fact that a new coalition had been established with the Cullen's, a group whose numbers they hoped would be large enough, strong enough, to stop an attack from vampires traveling from Seattle, the real deal bloodsuckers who fed on human beings, as opposed to slaking their thirst with Bambi and all of his little friends. It was a terrifying prospect, compounded by my worrying over our guys...especially Paul.

It was funny how we'd fallen into a routine of easy intimacy, like a couple who'd had years together. He still stayed at my cottage, still slept on my couch, and when I returned from work, exhausted, reeking of grease and grilled onions, positively dead on my feet, he was always waiting for me, ready and willing to rub my shoulders, my back, my calves, my feet, his hands working magic on my body without ever trying to cop a feel. It was something we hadn't really approached, heightening our physical closeness with one another, having seemed to reach an unspoken agreement to take things kind of slow. It was obvious that he had experience, lots of it, and I didn't, and amazingly enough, he seemed content not to rush me...which I appreciated.

"You're going to wear yourself ragged, pacing the floor that way," Emily said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. I didn't turn from the window, childishly rolling my eyes and sticking my tongue out at the window in response.

"I saw that," she said, the smile in her voice growing to a laugh. "Glass _is_ reflective, you know?"

They were all having one big laugh at my expense, and I flounced my way over to where they sat, blushing and smiling sheepishly as I took a seat at the table. I knew that Emily had experience with this sort of thing, but why in hell was Kim so calm? It wasn't like she was a veteran, like Emily was, she was a green rookie, same as me, so why wasn't she pacing the floor, making a spectacle of herself, worried to death over Jared? She seemed calm, almost serene, and it was enough of a provocation to make me want to smack her, even though I knew that would be completely irrational.

I was able to sit there, glancing from the puzzle, to the windows, to the door, back to the puzzle, repeatedly for five minutes and then I jumped to my feet, inspiration, paired with desperation, driving me toward the front door. "Where are you going, Lilah?" Emily asked, not taking her eyes from the puzzle. "It's way too early for the boys to be back. Why don't you sit back down and help us with this puzzle?"

I opened the door and stood still, smiling as the breeze flitted over my face, bringing with it the smell of the grass, of the flowers, and of the wilder scent of the forest. "I'd rather wait outside," I answered, not daring to turn around, lest she see the lie that had to be pasted across my face. "I need a little time to myself, ok?"

If she knew that I was being less than honest with her she gave me no indication. "I can understand that," she said kindly, making me feel horrible for lying to her. "Just make sure that you stay close to the house, ok, don't go too far."

The guilty feeling plaguing my conscience swelled and I still couldn't turn and face her. I made due with nodding and rushed outside before I could change my mind, glancing around at the forest surrounding Emily's house, closing my eyes to remember the path that the boys had taken when they left. I knew that I would be sure to catch hell from Paul for this, if he caught me, but I just couldn't stand it. I had to see for myself that he truly was alright and the only way to do that was to follow their trail and spy on them.

I was a novice at tracking people, and it was more than likely sheer dumb luck, paired with a bright full moon, that made it possible for me to discover, and follow, their trail. I don't know what I would have done on my own, probably wandered around for hours, but before long I found that I could hear sounds, voices, in the forest, most which were unfamiliar to me, until I heard what I was sure was Dr. Cullen's voice and felt a surge of delight, knowing that I had found the right spot.

I crept over to an opening in the trees, and was given one quick moment to survey the majesty of the Cullen's as they tussled with one another in front of a group of imposing wolves, completely disregarding the fact that both the vampires and the pack were gifted with an acute sense of smell. At first I couldn't understand why their attention suddenly turned my way, but I caught on pretty damn quick when one of the wolves, the big grey one, oh crap, the one that I recognized as Paul, started growling furiously, moving toward the spot where I stood, frozen in fear, before the black wolf, that would be Sam, intercepted him.

It was obvious that they were having a rather heated discussion, although all I could hear were their growls, one of them calm and the other one angry. I contemplated turning to run away, even though I knew I'd be caught in an instant, when suddenly one of the Cullen's, a blond guy who was just as gorgeous as his adoptive father, broke away from the others and walked toward me, stopping a respectful distance away, staring at me and smiling in a way that I guess you could call welcoming. I heard Paul's snarls grow even more furious, but the vampire ignored him, his attention centered completely on me.

"You must be Lilah," he said softly, his eyes meeting, and holding, my own. "My name is Jasper Hale. I've heard a great deal about you and am pleased to make your acquaintance."

As he continued to hold onto my eyes I felt an odd sense of calmness wash over me, carrying away my trepidation as thoroughly as if I'd never even known what it meant to be scared, or apprehensive. "It's nice to meet you as well," I mumbled, embarrassed now to have been caught spying on them, when I was supposed to have stayed with Emily. "I guess I owe everyone an apology for coming in uninvited the way I did, huh?"

There were answering growls from the direction of Paul that I would have sworn were the wolf equivalent of "damn right", but no one else seemed overly upset about the fact that I'd been caught red-handed, spying on them. "An apology isn't necessary," a new, and familiar, voice joined the conversation, that of Dr. Cullen, who was still achingly beautiful, despite his bloodsucker tendencies. "We were pretty well finished for the night, so there's no need for you to apologize to us Lilah, or to feel ill at ease."

I wasn't sure what sort of reception I would have expected from a family of vampires, but I think I could say with some certainty that I hadn't entertained the notion that they'd be friendly, but they were. They were all breathtakingly exquisite, making me feel about as attractive as a lumpy toad, and all were very welcoming to me, with the exception of a golden haired woman who looked at me in a way that left no doubt in my mind that she didn't like me, though I couldn't think of anything I'd done that would make her loathe me on sight, not even my sudden, uninvited appearance.

One by one everyone left the clearing and I watched them leave with anxious eyes. This was the first time that I'd seen Paul angry because of me...at me...and while I wasn't scared of him, I knew that he would never have hurt me, I wasn't looking forward to the moment that he'd phase back to his human form and I'd have to see the disappointment in his eyes when he looked at me.

I kept my back turned on the spot where he and Sam had been standing, refusing to turn and look at him, but suddenly everyone else was gone, and I knew that the time had come for me to face him. I took several deep breaths, doing my best to bolster my courage and seek him out, when suddenly I felt him behind me, felt his heat radiating against my back, felt his body shaking, and wondered whether it was from anger or from fear, or maybe a little of both.

I felt his hand on my hair, stroking its length, and then he pressed his nose to my crown, breathing deeply, shakily, before drawing my hair away from my neck, baring my nape. I had come to expect this from him, it was one of his favorite places to kiss, and I wasn't disappointed when I felt the warmth of his mouth on my skin, but what I wasn't ready for was the sharp nip of his teeth after the kiss, or for the low growl in his throat that told me that he was still displeased and my heart flip-flopped in my chest as he turned me in his arms and I found myself staring into his dark, tempestuous eyes.

Paul's POV

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so angry, but it had been awhile. I had been furious when I'd faced off with that stunted maggot Sonny, but this was an entirely different kind of rage. The night had already been ruined for me, having to hobnob with leeches, watching their fighting techniques, trying to remember that I was supposed to pay attention, that I was supposed to be learning to fight against the newborn bloodsuckers, but my mind had been otherwise occupied, with thoughts of my Lilah, of course, something that had earned me more than one reprimand from Sam, when suddenly I had smelled her so clearly, as though she was there with me, and surprise, surprise...she was.

It had been irrational, I suppose, to allow myself to become so enraged, but she wasn't supposed to be there, dammit, she wasn't supposed to be exposed to the leeches. She'd been safe, waiting for me at Emily's house, and that was where she was supposed to have stayed. It was a new feeling for me, being angry with my Lilah, an emotion that Sam had done his best to talk me out of, especially when I'd seen her talking to the calming one. She wasn't supposed to see the bloodsuckers, for chrissakes, and she sure as hell wasn't supposed to talk to them, but my wishes may as well have been nonexistent, because she talked to every one of them, though the blond chick had given her a wide berth. That _should_ have made me happy, after all, I didn't want her fraternizing with a coven of vampires, but for some stupid reason it made me even more furious, that one of them was snubbing her...how freakin' stupid was that?

Now I was holding her in my arms, willing away all of my residual anger, remembering that this was the woman I loved, remembering that me letting go of my temper at that moment could hurt her very badly, remembering Emily's face, and what Sam had done and had to live with each and every day. I kept a strong grip on my self-control, but not strong enough for me to not show my displeasure and exert the control that I wanted to have by nipping the back of her neck, not hard enough to cause her any real pain, but enough to show her that I wasn't at all pleased by the fact that she'd put her life in danger.

She was staring up at me, and I really wished that she would stop licking her lips the way that she was. I could see that she was kind of scared, and how in hell was I supposed to reassure her when all I was thinking about was taking hold of that sweet mouth of hers? I didn't want her to be afraid of me, but at the same time she needed to understand that this life we led was dangerous, and that when she was told to do something, she needed to do it. Of course, it would be a lot easier for me to be stern and authoritative if she wasn't so damned pretty...and if I wasn't so crazy about her...and if I could get through five minutes without thinking about her naked and hot and...Ah hell, what a mess.

She wouldn't stop licking her lips, biting the bottom one, making it even puffier than normal, and trust me when I say that she didn't need any help making her lips sexy and plump. I knew that she wasn't doing it on purpose, that she was nervous, but after a few moments passed the torment got to be too much for me and I gave in to temptation, lowering my mouth to hers, growling when I felt the soft fullness caressing my flesh.

I never would have thought that something as simple as a kiss, something I'd done countless times before, with too many girls, could be so intimate, so breathtaking, but I'd quickly discovered how delectable my Lilah was, how that first taste of her had hooked me and now I was an addict. I hadn't been lying to her when I told her that I wouldn't be able to get enough of her, and thankfully she didn't seem to mind, if anything she seemed to enjoy it, thank God.

We had been doing enough of the smooching thing that I could pretty well assume that I was welcome, that I didn't have to ask permission before I thoroughly kissed her, tasted her, but I usually took things slow anyway, offering her the opportunity to pull away from me if she wanted to, and so far she hadn't. This time was different, I was still scared, still mad, mostly because I was scared, and my tongue swept into her mouth, and I gathered her up at close as I could to my body, thankful that she was safe, that she was warm and soft and curvy in my arms, and that nothing bad had happened to her.

She made a tiny noise in her throat, a mewl of surprise and if I wasn't mistaken, of need, as my hands stole down her back and took hold of her, both hands filling with the sweetly rounded ass that had tormented me every day since we'd met, one of the many spots that I'd never dared touch, up until now. Damn...it felt just as good as it looked and I took full advantage of the situation, thrusting her forward, pressing her against my body more intimately than I ever had before, my tongue plunging in and out in a blatant imitation of what I'd like to do to her, all while reminding myself that it was too soon, that she wasn't ready for that step.

I would have never expected things to go this far, and if that came as a surprise to me, you can bet your ass that her reaching 'round to take hold of _my_ ass shocked the hell out of me, and I growled low in my throat again, which only served to heighten her arousal and I could sense that things were quickly getting out of hand. I had to be responsible, no matter that I was dying to give into my needs and with a frustrated groan I tore my lips away from her, sucking in deep breaths, trying to calm down.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," I told her, taking advantage of the fact that she was all hot and bothered in the hope that she would listen to what I was saying. "I didn't ask you to stay with Emily because I was trying to be cruel, or for the satisfaction of bossing you around, you know, I said for you to stay with her so I'd know that you were safe."

It wasn't easy, and in the past I would have thought it awfully wimpy to admit to anyone that I'd been scared, but maybe she'd see the seriousness of the situation if I let her know that while I'd been, and still was to some extent, angry with her for showing up, most of all I'd been afraid of what would happen to her, what the leeches might do to her. They all swore to a gospel of animal blood only, but I also knew that the calming one had tried to take a bite out of Bella Swan when he'd smelled her blood, so anything was possible...long story short, they couldn't be trusted...especially not with something as precious as Lilah.

"I'm sorry," she whispered in a timid and husky little voice, gripping me both with remorse and arousal at the same time, and damn...there she went again...nibbling on those lips that were all swollen and darkened from our kissing. "I was just so worried and pacing the floor and listening to them jabber on about nonsense and I couldn't take it anymore...I had to make sure that you were alright."

Some guys would have taken it as a blow to their manhood that a little girl thought that she needed to check up on him, like maybe he'd need her help or something, and to be honest I would have expected myself to stand in those ranks, but I couldn't help but be happy that she'd been that concerned. That said to me that the depths of her feelings, while maybe not as deep as my own, went beyond mere lust and curiosity.

"There's nothing for you to worry about sweetheart," I said, drawing her close in my arms and nuzzling my neck. "It would take more than a couple of leeches to give me much more than a headache, and besides which, they've promised to be on their best behavior, if you can take anything that _they _say to heart, that is."

We stayed that way for several moments, cuddled up, things between us threatening to get hot and heavy all over again, and I knew that it was time for us to get back amongst the others, where I'd be less likely to ravish her. "And there's no need for you to apologize to me, Lilah, you know that I could never stay mad at you," I said, smiling to myself when I heard her sigh of relief, thinking that it was a shame that I'd have to ruin that feeling for her. "Now, on the other hand...with Emily...well...let's just say that she won't let you off the hook so easily."


	10. The Road To Where Is Paved With What?

Chapter Ten

The Road To Where Is Paved With What?

Paul's POV

She was dead to the world, curled on her side, one hand resting against her cheek, murmuring every now and then, her forehead wrinkled in a way that suggested that she might have been having a bad dream. I wondered what it was that was disturbing her rest. Maybe she was remembering how angry I'd been with her earlier that night, surely she wasn't thinking about the kiss we'd shared...damn, that wouldn't be good...of course it could have been the blistering tirade that she'd endured once we'd reached Emily's, which had went on for a full five minutes, even after I'd told Emily to back off, stopping only when Sam stepped in on Lilah's behalf.

Everybody looked at Emily and saw this sweet woman who took care of everyone around her, but what they didn't know, unless they had witnessed it firsthand, was that while she was a loving and caring person, she also had a downright fearsome temper, and God help you if she got mad at you, because no one else would be able to. Sam was able to calm her down eventually, but you could be damn sure that it wouldn't be until after she'd chewed your ass until there was nothing left...I know this because I speak from firsthand experience, believe you me.

Poor Lilah...she'd held up admirably, all things considered, taking her licks and never once talking back, though it wasn't easy, there were a few times that her bottom lip would quiver, and those were the times that I spoke up on her behalf. Now I was standing in the threshold of her bedroom, watching and listening to her sleep, reminding myself that I had no business getting any closer to her, I hadn't been invited yet, but that line of thinking when right out the window when she started whimpering in her sleep, scared, helpless sounds, and before I could stop myself I was crossing the floor to her bed, pulling back the covers and sliding beneath them, curling myself around her body, warm and soft against me.

I knew in an instant, when she snuggled back against me and sighed my name, when her hair tickled my nose and infused my senses with her smell, when I felt her boobs, and oh crap, her nipples standing straight up, against my arm, I knew that I had made a terrible, possibly fatal mistake. I had to have known better, after all, I was the dumbass who went around with a semi-hard dick all damn day, I was the one who wanted her so bad that I could taste it every time we were in the same room, and I had just gone and climbed into her bed, the one place where her scent was the strongest, where she was laying, all sweet and warm and sexy, just waiting for me to seduce her...sheesh...what a freakin' idiot I was...either that or I had become an overnight masochist...the jury's still out on that one.

"Don't worry sweetheart," I whispered, kissing the back of her head and tightening my arm around her, doing my best not to cop anymore of a feel than I already had. "No one's going to hurt you, not while I'm here, so there's no need for you to be scared, ok?"

I was sure that it wasn't deliberate, after all, she _was_ asleep, but she answered me by pressing her ass, that round ass that I'd held for the first time earlier that night, against a dick that had already gone from semi to full on hard, and my eyes slammed shut, and I placed my forehead against the back of her head and groaned deep in my throat. It was enough of a torture, feeling the curves of her body wrapped tight in my arms, at least I'd thought that was agony, but I'd been mistaken. Now I knew that the definition of misery was her soft and warm flesh pushed up snugly against me, inviting me to behave in a way that was the opposite of a gentleman, and then, just when I thought that things couldn't get any worse, they did...I ought to know better by now, shouldn't I?

She had wriggled against me several times, making me crazy, then went and sent me straight over the edge into complete mindlessness by turning over, replacing her ass with a spot that was even warmer, even softer, absolute heaven and sheer hell that was pressed intimately against the one part of my body that would have just _loved_ to have been invited inside for a closer look around. That was bad enough, to feel the heat of her nestled so snugly against me, but did she _really_ have to start her wriggling again, did I _really _need the added torment…..did I, huh?

She murmured something in her sleep, something I missed the first time that she said it due to the blood pounding in my ears, but I heard it clearly the second time, paired with her scent, the bouquet that wafted up to fill my nose, the flavor of her arousal, musky and spicy, accompanied by an increase in the heat pressed snug against my throbbing flesh. "_Paul_," she whispered, writhing more firmly against me. "_Oh, Paul_, _oh honey, yes."_

I was sure by this point that I was being punished, I had died sometime during the night, maybe at the hand of one of the leeches, and now I was in Hell. My punishment, it would seem, was to be plagued by the knowledge that my Lilah was resting beside me, was wriggling against me and moaning my name in her sleep, obviously turned-on, because of me, and there wasn't a damn thing that I could do about it.

At least, I was sure of that until the side of myself that was as big of a pain in my ass, maybe even more, as the bloodsuckers threw in his sanctimonious two cents, suggesting that I should leave the bed while I still had the chance, before I gave into temptation and had my way with my sweetheart. If I was truly in Hell, the one in charge would have allowed me to do my best to ravish Lilah, laughing at my growing frustration rather than telling me to leave while I could...oh crap...that meant that all of this...that her arousal for me...was very, frustratingly, real.

I should have listened to my conscience, it would have been the smart thing to do, but no one had ever accused me of being the most intelligent guy around, so why should I start then? I put my hand on her waist, slowly moving down over her hip, onto her thigh, bringing her leg up and hooking it on my waist, pressing myself more intimately against her and thrust my hips, placing my mouth against her throat, nipping at the spot where her blood surged beneath her skin, growling as she started awake.

Lilah's POV

I had been suffering from nightmares ever since I'd closed my eyes, images of crimson eyed monsters attacking a big grey wolf, tearing him to pieces before his brothers could reach him, their razor-sharp teeth biting into him again and again before turning on those who would rescue him, destroying them as well, leaving every human vulnerable to the inevitable doom that lay in store...and it was all my fault.

All I could hear was Emily's voice, telling me over and over that I was incredibly selfish, that she was disgusted with my lack of concern for anyone other than my own self, and surveying the ravaged bodies covering the floor of the forest, as death crept upon me, I knew that she was right. I'd brought this down on everyone, and it was a guilt that threatened to destroy me...I supposed that I should have been thrilled that I was going to die, rather than having to endure a lifetime worth of crippling self-reproach.

I'd tossed and turned, willing myself to wake up, praying that it had all been a horrible nightmare, but for some reason I couldn't awaken. It wasn't until a warmth had overtaken me, a strong warmth accompanied by a strong beating, that I had started to feel better, a bliss that slowly started to grow erotic as I lost myself in that cozy embrace, the death and destruction on the forest floor disappearing as what was comfort became desire, and I started moving myself against the heat on my bottom, against the pressure that was steadily growing against my backside.

There was a sound on the breeze blowing across my body, a deep groaning that sparked a memory in me, and I found myself longing for more, feeling that things weren't quite as they should be. I wanted to feel that delicious heat against my chest, on the nipples that were standing up like proud little soldiers, against the throbbing that had started between my thighs and I turned toward the source, writhing myself against the hard pressure, adding my moan to the other as the level of arousal inside me pulsed and grew.

The temperature, the enveloping heat, reminded me of a certain wolf, and the awakening within me swelled, and it became essential, rather than a mere longing, that I find a release to the pressure building in my core. "Paul," I moaned, moving more desperately against the heat, against the hardness. "Oh, Paul, oh honey, yes."

The embrace that had been holding me around my waist moved then, trailing down to my hip, then to my thigh, moving my leg up, pressing the part of me that was throbbing now in time with each beat of my heart more intimately against the stiffness that until that moment had only been teasing me, its warmth thrusting against me blatantly, bringing to mind images of something I'd only thought of in passing fantasy up until now. The forest, which had been so bright, so vibrant around me dimmed as my excitement grew stronger and stronger, propelling me toward the inevitable, and then I felt softness on my neck, strong teeth nipping at the spot where my pulse throbbed beneath my skin and in a rush of confusion and overwhelming desire I woke up, realizing that I'd been dreaming everything, yet at the same time all that I'd felt was real.

I didn't even allow myself to stop and think of the lines that we were crossing, ones that had been unconsciously and unnecessarily drawn, I couldn't think about anything else at that moment beyond what I was feeling and needing. Paul had noticed that I had woken up, and started to move away from me, so I wrapped my arms around him, holding him fast against me.

"Don't you dare," I hissed, tightening the hold of my leg on his waist for good measure. "I'll never forgive you if you leave me like this."

He started to smile, a slow, satisfied, _knowing_ smile that was pleased beyond relief. "I'm just trying to be a gentleman sweetheart," he answered teasingly, rocking that part of him that was still a stranger against me once more, causing me to choke back a whimper of need. "I wouldn't want you to think that I'm trying to take advantage of you."

I would have let him know exactly what he could do with his good intentions, but was silenced by his mouth coming down on mine, stealing away all of my ability to chew him out. He had kissed me passionately before, glorious, toe-curling kisses that I had felt everywhere, but this time it was different. It wasn't until now that I realized he had been using restraint in all of our previous embraces, and just like in my dream everything seemed to fade, to grow dim, until all that was left was the two of us, and nothing else mattered.

His tongue was unrelenting in my mouth, plunging and searching, tasting me until I was breathless, while he ran his fingertips down my neck, caressing the spot where my pulse raced, then traveling down, skimming the fabric of my nightie, teasing and tormenting, slowly finding one nipple that strained against the binding of clothing, tracing its shape, then making me whimper into his mouth by pinching the flesh between his fingers.

He tantalized that point, until the throbbing grew until it was almost painful, and then moved to its twin, giving it equal, torturing treatment, and it wasn't long before I was thrashing beneath him, tearing my mouth away from his to whimper, to beg him to stop teasing me. If I'd expected him to show me any mercy I was sorely mistaken, knowledge that was made crystal-clear to me when he looked into my eyes, when I saw the passion there, and his intentions made me shudder.

He moved his lips, which had already been doing a damn good job of driving me crazy, down my neck, nipping here and licking there, not stopping until he reached my collarbone, traveling to the thin straps of my nightgown, taking them between his teeth and with a quick turn of his head tearing them, first one and then the other.

I would have been angry if I wasn't so turned-on at that moment, but as it was all that I could do was watch, torn between shock and desire, as he moved the gown out of his way, baring my breasts completely, and I suffered a brief flash of insecurity, wondering how I measured up to the other women he'd seen, that was until I saw the flare of heat that infused his eyes and the smile of satisfaction that curved his lips.

"Well now sweetheart, look at you." His voice was a low growl, filled with passion. "I knew that they'd be pretty little rosebuds, but I hadn't quite realized just how much it would affect me to see them after all this time. Would it be okay if I gave them a little kiss?"

Now he was asking permission..._now_, after he'd torn my nightie without any thought whatsoever? "One little kiss wouldn't be enough for me," I said a little breathlessly, arching my back to put the 'rosebuds' a little closer to him, pleased when I saw him swallow with some difficulty, his eyes growing darker as he slowly lowered his head to my chest.

His lips touched my right nipple with the gentleness of a lover's first, hesitant kiss of hello. Feather soft brushes of flesh against flesh, teasing me until I was writhing beneath him, and on the verge of telling him to stop tormenting me, when suddenly he opened his mouth and the tip of his tongue circled my throbbing nipple, tracing it before drawing the bud into his mouth, suckling it, biting it gently, while his fingertips manipulated its twin.

I had held on to the symbol of my virtue well into my adult years, to tell the truth I'd never really been tempted to sacrifice that delicate membrane up until this point, and now it was the dominant yearning coursing through me, to belong completely to this man. I wasn't apprehensive, I wasn't hesitant, I just wanted him, but he didn't seem to be picking up on that signal too clearly, so I did what I thought was best and ran my hand down the hardened plane of his stomach, marveling at his strength and beauty, then plunged my hand inside the waistband of his shorts, taking him in hand, quite literally, never expecting him to yelp the way that he did, while nearly leaping from the bed in shock.

I didn't think it was quite fair for him to reach down and take my hand away from his...well...you know. I'd barely had a chance to get a good feel of him before he rolled over onto his back, taking deep breaths while he stared at the ceiling. "It's not that I don't want that," he murmured, his voice raw with emotion. "It's what I've been dreaming of for a long damn time, so please don't think that I'm rejecting you, sweetheart. I just think that it would be better if we took things a little slower. Savor the moments and take our time, you know what I mean?"

I felt a small spark of anger take up root inside of me, elbowing aside the arousal that had taken over in my body. He was a tease, a damned tease, making sure that I was turned-on to the point that it was painful and now he was shutting everything down, leaving me mad and frustrated, more than likely intending to return to the couch and get a good night's sleep, the bastard, while I tossed and turned.

"Maybe you should have considered what might have been the outcome of crawling into bed with me before you made yourself at home," I hissed, reaching down to pull up my ruined gown, refusing to have a conversation like the one we were fixing to launch into with my breasts on display. "It's not like I asked you to come in here, you know?"

I struggled to sit up on the bed, infuriated and humiliated, emotions that grew even stronger when I saw that he was laughing at me. Oh, he was doing his best to hide the fact that he was finding so damned much humor in my injured feelings, but I could see the smile twitching around his lips, and his eyes, which were still hot with desire, were starting to dance mirthfully. "Bastard," I hissed, holding my gown to my chest with one hand and rolling over, only to have him grab me around the waist, pulling me back down on the bed, then moving so that he was laying half on, half off of my body.

"As far as I know, my parents were married to one another when I was conceived," he said, laughing as I continued to struggle against him. "So in the truest sense of the word, I'm not a bastard, and if you'd give me a chance to continue, instead of jumping to conclusions and throwing a temper tantrum, you'd see that I never meant to upset you."

He was serious then, watching me closely before bending down to kiss me. I didn't want to be taken in by him again, I wanted to stay mad, but I couldn't help but melt against him, my fingers twining into his hair as the fire that had still smoldered between us flared to life once more. He waited until I was thrashing upon the bed, moving myself against him and then he grabbed hold of the side of my gown, which was already damaged, and finished it off by ripping it completely off of my body, leaving me clad in just my tiny panties.

"I was never going to leave you in this state," he said, moving his mouth away from mine, kissing down the length of my throat, traveling once more to my bare nipples. "I just needed a minute to slow down...not to stop completely, just to get control of myself. This can only go so far right now sweetheart, you might think that it's time for the big event, but it's not. I made up my mind that certain things would happen between us before then and they haven't happened, so I'm not in any rush."

I whimpered as his lips grazed my nipple, followed closely by his tongue, first one side then the other, then froze as I felt the heat of his hand, the calloused fingers and broad palm, moving down my stomach in a beeline to the waistband of my panties, his fingertips teasing the soft flesh around that boundary before slipping underneath.

My shock must have been evident, paired with an overwhelming need for him to touch me. "There's no reason that we can't have a little fun along the way though, is there?" he asked, running his fingers back and forth just inside the waistband. "But we would only continue if that was what you wanted, of course."

It was a little wanton of me, I suppose, but I was beyond the point where I gave a damn about behaving demurely, or playing hard to get, and I answered him by reaching down, placing my hand on his, pushing him down to the place I wanted those fingers of his. His eyelids grew heavy as he watched me, stared at me, while he found and traced the part of me that was swollen and throbbing for him, growling deep in his throat as he collected the dampness that had flowed in and out of me. I was so sensitive by this point that this first exploration, just the heat of his fingertips caressing me started me climbing toward a pinnacle that I'd only scaled in a solo fashion up until now, and as I felt the first tentative stroke of his flesh against my straining bundle of nerves I dissolved, arching against him as I cried out my triumph, bringing tears of joy and of relief to my eyes.

It was ironic, I suppose, that I'd always assumed that I knew all there was to know about an orgasm, learned at my own hand, of course, but as the second wave hit me, a mind-blowing paroxysm that made the first, which I'd thought was more than I should be able to feel, seem small in comparison. I gave no thought to the fact that I was digging my fingernails into his shoulders, surely causing him pain, or that I was crying out directly into his ear, surely making him temporarily deaf, I was oblivious to anything other than the absolute pleasure of my release, and I wondered if it was possible for someone to die from this sort of thing.

He rolled over onto his back, snuggling me close in his arms, and while my senses returned to me, my self-conscious tendencies did as well, but he wouldn't allow me to cover myself. I found a spot against him that allowed me to shield myself somewhat, but which still pleased him because it meant that my bare boobs were pressed against him. I couldn't help but notice, as we laid there, the obvious swelling in his shorts, and realized that he had to be very much in need of a little release himself, but when I made a feeble move, an attempt, to touch him, feeble due to the fact that I felt as though my bones were made of jelly and all of my muscles were asleep, he stopped me, grabbing my hand and placing it over his heart.

"Don't worry about that, sweetheart," he murmured, closing his eyes and smiling. "There'll be plenty of time for that later on. I've got everything I need right now...everything's perfect, just as it is."


	11. Submissiveness Definitely Has Its Perks

Chapter Eleven

Submissiveness Definitely Has Its Perks

Paul's POV

My mind wasn't on the right track, I was having a hard time keeping focused on the task at hand, and that could prove to be dangerous, to say the very least. This was the day that we would be facing off against the vampires, and when I say vampires, I'm not talking about the Cullen family, the cute and cuddly version of leech; I'm talking about the murderous variety that got their jollies by feasting on human blood. Bearing that in mind, I should have been on top of my game, disciplined and ready for battle, but my mind wasn't there...it was too busy replaying the night before...the mind-blowing night that I'd spent in Lilah's, in _our_,bed.

I should have known that things were going to be a little different when I saw the hot little number that she'd had on when she sashayed into the room. Usually she wore cotton nightgowns, pretty and feminine, but not the sort of thing that would make a man's dick stand up and say hello, if you know what I mean, but last night's ensemble hadn't just managed to bring my old boy to life with just one look, oh no, it had made him stand up and start turning somersaults.

I wasn't sure when, or where, she'd acquired her cherry red lingerie, but that hadn't meant much of anything to me. I'd been a little too busy taking in the silk and lace that had covered her boobs, the boobs I'd become more than a little fixated on lately, the lace showing just a hint of her nipples, which hardened while I stared at her. From there I moved to the slit that ran from the very short hemline, all the way to a spot right above her bellybutton, off to the side of the gown, trimmed in lace as well. This little peek-a-boo gave me a clear view of the panties, in the same crimson as the gown, and I'd been willing to bet that undies that tiny were bound to be a thong...a suspicion that I'd confirmed later that night.

She'd never been timid with me, not once in our relationship, and certainly not in the week that had passed since we'd started sharing a bed, but tonight she was more than just self-assured. She was brimming with confidence, almost aggressively so, as a matter of fact, and I wondered just how difficult it was going to be for me to keep my cock to myself. I'd done an admirable job so far, bringing her pleasure every night, falling asleep with her in my arms, but refusing to allow myself to take things any further. Her cries of release had been enough for me, when I was the aggressor, but how would I fare when she was the one in charge?

_...I laid still on the bed, my arms crossed behind my head, doing my best to keep my cool and stop the shock that I was feeling from showing on my face, but there was a knowing look on her face as she reached up to unbind her hair, leaving it to flow, unfettered, down around her shoulders, the tips reaching her waist. She made her way to the bed, her hips swaying provocatively with each step that she took, her boobs jiggling in a way that did absolutely nothing to help my already heightened arousal..._

Oh, wonderful...here we were, running at top speed to that clearing where the Cullen's had given their demonstration of the right and wrong way to approach the dismemberment of a ravenous newborn leech with unlimited strength right at their pasty little fingertips, and I was getting all hot and bothered. The worst part was that I couldn't mask the images that kept popping into my head, though thankfully I wasn't the only one.

Jared was thinking of Kim, and how pretty she was when she blushed, which apparently she did every time he kissed her. Quil was remembering a day spent with Claire at the beach, playing in the surf at low tide. Embry was randomly running through a variety of porn star action, concentrating most of his attention on the silicone enhanced boobs, though there was an occasional glimmer of some chick that sat beside him in his math class, one who looked remarkably normal, with no obvious fakeness or way too white teeth. Jacob, who'd just joined us, gifted us with a play-by-play of some cheesy romance novel BS that had just gone down between him and Bella Swan, concentrating on her declaration of love, which had been an obvious ploy used to keep him out of danger, and an overly wet kiss that had me gagging more than Embry's slideshow of two blonds muff diving on one another had...a few more moments of that and I might have offered myself as a sacrifice to the Seattle leeches, just to get rid of the images in my head.

_...She climbed onto the bed, then straight onto me, one leg straddling each side of my body, placing the heat of her core firmly against my straining flesh. There were boundaries between us, my shorts and her panties, but as limits went they were pretty damned flimsy, and it was all that I could do to keep myself from thrusting against her. I ran my hand into her hair and cupped the back of her neck, bringing her close for a kiss. It should have been a simple thing, something I'd experienced countless times...a kiss...but with her it was so much more. At the risk of sounding like a complete douche, it was like our souls met each time, hugging one another like old friends, right before the rush of arousal took hold of us...shit...that did sound pretty freakin' corny, didn't it?..._

I had to wonder if it was a sure sign that I was going loony, the fact that I was analyzing my behavior in a flashback/fantasy scenario. Maybe it didn't qualify as being certifiably nuts, but it had to be kind of weird, I would imagine. The better bet would be that I was off my rocker to be reminiscing when there was who knows how many bloodsuckers waiting to rip my damned head off and feast on my still beating heart. Besides which, sappy or not, that was the way it felt whenever I kissed her, there was no getting around that fact.

Sam glanced over his shoulder at us, baring his teeth in an action that clearly said that he wanted us to cease with the mind-numbing chatter and various picture shows, like he had any business whatsoever calling us out on that, when he'd been bombarding us with a near constant stream of him and Emily in various positions, on the bed, in the shower, laid out on the kitchen table...sheesh...I had just eaten on that freakin' table a couple of days ago. And let me just say, after I saw what she did with a can of Reddi-Whip and a bottle of Hershey's syrup, that it would be a good long while before I was going to feel comfortable looking her in the eye again.

_...I placed my fingers beneath the straps of her gown, slowly drawing them off of her shoulders, knowing I'd get chewed if I was to tear this gown, considering the fact that it looked brand-new. I sucked in a deep breath as her boobs were gloriously unveiled, subtly thrusting against her, feeling an intense need to move, to communicate with her in the simplest way possible. I lifted my shoulders from the bed, my mouth teasing, and then capturing one nipple, then the other, until she was the one moving against me. This was the moment that I would have moved to lay her down on the bed, to continue my exploration of her, just as I always did, but for some reason she wouldn't cooperate with me. She tightened her hold with her legs on my body, smiling in a manner that sent a shiver of anticipation through me, a trembling that grew when I saw her small fingers travel to her nipples, still hardened from the attention that I'd bestowed on them, pinching them between her fingertips, tiny whimpers coming from her lips. "Oh, no you don't," she murmured, rocking her hips forward, once, then twice. "This time I'm the one who's in charge."..._

I'd always been comfortable with my role as the aggressor. I'd never been content to be submissive, or to let a woman have any say as to how we'd get things done. I had always liked it in just about every way possible, but most of all I'd always preferred to be the one in the dominant position, so it had been more than a little out of my comfort zone to lay back against the pillows and give her free reign over me. It wasn't what I'd been used to, but I'd quickly discovered that being the one who was being seduced, rather than the one doing the convincing, wasn't half bad...not at all.

_...She leaned forward and started pressing soft kisses to the side of my throat, delicate caresses that warmed each spot of flesh she touched. I tried to raise my hands to cup her breasts. "No," she whispered, slapping my hands away. I pouted, I actually freakin' pouted for a split-second, then lowered my palms to her waist, one on each side. "Huh-uh," she said, smacking me again, a little harder than the time before. "I said that I'm the one in charge, and if I want you to touch me, I'll tell you to, but until then, keep your hands to yourself...honey."..._

It seemed to be taking us forever to reach the clearing, like we were running in slow-mo or something, though I knew that we were moving at top speed. All I could think of was that the faster we got there, the quicker we could get this over with and be done. Don't get me wrong...I was definitely jived at the idea of tearing into some bloodsucker flesh, but there was a girl waiting for me at home who held just a little more interest for me...one who was sure to be pacing the floor, worrying and imagining the worst.

_...My hands were digging into the sheets, hard enough that it was painful, enough that I wouldn't have been surprised if I had torn them. She was running her lips down my chest, nuzzling me occasionally with her nose, taking my scent into her nose and sighing blissfully. I'd never really considered that she'd be that way too, that she'd be aroused by the way I smelled, but it pleased me that she was. I had just about gotten myself accustomed to the whole submissive thing...to a point...but what I hadn't expected was the brush of her lips across my nipples, or the warm flick of her tongue against them, making them hard, and I sure as hell hadn't prepared myself for the feel of her mouth closing around them, licking and sucking until I was moving almost desperately beneath her. No chick had ever done that to me before; I'd never even imagined such a thing. Sucking nipples was something that a guy did to his woman, not the other way around, or so I'd thought...apparently I'd been missing out all that time..._

I think it was kind of confusing to her, the fact that I hadn't tried to move on from third base to home plate, when she'd made it clear that she was ready and willing to do so, and with my past, who could blame her for wondering? I guess it was kind of weird, considering that it had never mattered to me before, but there was something I needed that she hadn't done yet. I had told her that I loved her several times, but she hadn't said it to me once. I was grateful that she hadn't done that "me too" crap...that would have really pissed me off, but I needed to hear those words, that she was in love with me, like I was with her, before we took the next step.

_...She made me crazy, made me growl and move upon the bed, against her, as I clawed at the sheets, then I stopped, sat completely still, holding my breath as she shimmied down to my legs, her mouth moving slowly, torturously down my stomach, straight to the waistband of my shorts. She looked up to smile at me, and I swore then and there that I'd never seen anything more arousing than the sight of her eyes, bright with excitement, peeking at me through her hair, or the thrillingly wicked smile that slowly grew on her face as she hooked her fingers into the waist of my shorts, slowly lowering them, baring me fully to her eyes..._

It had been exhilarating, and a boost to my self-esteem, to watch her eyes grow big and round while she stared at me, obviously impressed with the sight of me in all my glory. I'd always known that I had nothing to be ashamed of, unless I'd found myself naked in a room alongside a bunch of male porn stars, but every compliment was different when it came from her, more important to me, and I was pleased to know that she liked the way I looked down there...and at least she hadn't giggled. I'd never had that reaction in the past, and it would have destroyed me if I'd gotten it from her.

_...For what seemed like an eternity she just stared, then the smile, which had faded from her face returned in full. "Look at you," she breathed, slowly wrapping her hand around me, making me groan and hitch in a breath, my first since she'd pulled down my shorts. I had an idea, well, more of a hope, of what she'd do to me, and couldn't imagine how I was going to handle the sensation, when just the feel of her hand was nearly enough to send me over the edge. "He certainly seems happy to see me, doesn't he?" I couldn't utter anything that would have made any sense, making do with growling instead, a response that seemed to please her, an answer that became a groan, then embarrassingly a whimper of need as she lowered her head and slowly took me into her mouth, her hand wrapped around the base, the head and some of the length enveloped in her warmth...and then...oh damn...her tongue swirled around me, her mouth and hand moving simultaneously in a measured, maddening rhythm. When I couldn't stand it anymore I fisted my hands at my sides, my nails digging into my flesh, "Can I touch you Lilah?" I whispered desperately, my voice raw with longing. "Please let me touch you." She nodded her consent and I twined my fingers into her hair, doing my best to be gentle, losing myself in the moment..._

We'd reached the clearing at last, where the battle was already in full swing, resembling something straight out of _Braveheart_, minus the swords and battle axes, of course, not to mention the dudes in skirts, thank God. Sam gave the order to charge and we gleefully leapt into the fray, our teeth snapping here and there, all of us relishing the moment, the opportunity to tear into some leech flesh. It was absolute insanity, all of the action, the pandemonium, and at times I found it a little distracting, the way that the Cullen's moved with a definite air of grace, especially the elfin one. I took the time to admire them for about half a second, and then returned my attention where it belonged. The fight went well, and may have lasted for just a moment, or maybe it dragged on for several minutes, but our side emerged victorious in the end...'til that dumbass Jacob went and got himself hurt.

_...The moments afterward were magical and I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt so good, or if I'd even come close to this feeling, this closeness, this sense that everything was perfect. It was kind of embarrassing, the fact that I'd been so...vocal...about how good it had felt, I'd never been one for making a lot of noise when I...well... reached my pinnacle, but all of the past had gone out the window in that moment, along with the need to dominate and the idea that only guys sucked on nipples. I'd made a move to please her afterwards, but like I had a week ago she told me that she had everything she needed and we'd curled up and went to sleep, happy and content..._

Lilah's POV

I couldn't think straight as I made the trip to Billy Black's house, all I could do was cry and think about all the things I'd never told him. Someone was hurt very badly, that was all that we knew, and it was all that I could do to keep myself from shouting at Emily to drive faster. I had no doubt that we were all in the same frame of mind, those of us who had someone near and dear to us in danger and I cursed Sue Clearwater for the umpteenth time for her annoyingly cryptic message that didn't tell us _who_ it was that was hurt.

After what seemed like an eternity had passed we pulled up to the tiny red house. There was a throng of people gathered outside, but I didn't give them a second glance. I'd already made up my mind that it was Paul who was hurt, and knew that he had to be inside. Fighting back my hysteria, tears coursing down my cheeks, I battled my way through the crowd, ignoring the voice calling my name until a pair of hands, strong and calloused and very familiar, grabbed me around my waist, turning me and pulling me to a bare chest, comforting arms cuddling me close.

"Don't cry sweetheart," he whispered, stroking my hair, kissing my tears away. "Jacob's going to be just fine, Dr. Cullen is making sure of that, so there's no need for you to get so upset, okay?"

While I was happy to know that Jacob would be fine, he was the last thing that had been on my mind. "That's not why I'm so upset," I said brokenly, slapping him on his shoulder. "I didn't even know who it was that was hurt until now."

His eyes were confused for a moment, then it dawned on him why I was carrying on the way that I was and he started to smile, raising an eyebrow at me. "All of this drama is because you thought that I was the one who was hurt, isn't it?"

I resisted the urge to hit him again, making due with rolling my eyes at him instead. "Well, why else would I be so upset?" I hissed angrily. "I was concerned about everyone, of course, but you're a little more important to me than the rest of the pack, you know."

"Do I?" he asked softly, and once more I was plagued by the guilt of knowing that I'd never told him how I really felt. He told me every day that he loved me, and that I was his heart, but I'd never returned the sentiments, not once. I was always telling myself that it was too soon; that I couldn't possibly feel that way already, but that had been a lie.

"I hoped you would," I said, standing on my tiptoes to kiss him softly. "But I haven't been exactly forthcoming with the way I feel, have I?"

"No, you haven't sweetheart. You're good at _showing _me that you care about me, that you like to feed me, and that you find me irresistible, but as far as _telling_ me, well; you've been kind of neglectful there."

Any other time I would have worried that telling him how I felt, after that kind of conversation, would look like I was only saying the words to appease him, but I could see that he really needed to hear the words, at that moment, and what's more was that I really needed to say them.

I reached up and took hold of his face, holding it still between my hands. "I love you, Paul," I said, feeling my heart clinch when he took a deep, shuddering breath at my words. "I may not be capable of imprinting, but I believe in soul mates, and I know that you're mine."

He stared down at me for a moment, then grabbed me around the waist, lifting me into the air as he laid one of those toe-curling kisses on me, the kind that I would swear he specialized in, they were that damned good. It took about a split-second for my blood to heat and race and then I was doing my best to climb him, not even thinking about the fact that I was already up in the air.

Everything around us had dimmed, but there was something in the background, piercing both my haze of passion and the slightly funereal feel that had been in the air-thunderous applause and hoots of laughter. I would have loved to have been able to disappear, or to order the ground to open up and swallow us, but there would be no escape...oh, well...at least we'd made them laugh.


	12. From Here to Eternity

Chapter Twelve

From Here to Eternity

Author's Note: This chapter is an example of smut without much story...just thought that I ought to give you a head's up. Also, I took the chapter title from the film of the same name, having found a good deal of inspiration in the iconic scene between Burt Lancaster and Deborah Kerr.

Lilah's POV

The beach was very serene tonight, quiet, save for the sound of the waves gently hitting the sand. I didn't know why it was that I was drawn to the ocean, I'd always been terrified of water surrounding me, and had never learned to swim, but for whatever reason, I found that I couldn't stay away. I waded out into the surf, sucking in a deep breath as the cold water enveloped me, first my ankles, then my knees, until I was covered to my waist. I stood still and let calmness take hold of my body, running my hands on the surface of the water, marveling over the fact that I wasn't scared, not at all.

I'd done my best to help back at Billy's house, but the truth of the matter was that I didn't know him very well. I knew that as Paul's imprint I belonged there, I was part of them now, but I hadn't felt comfortable hugging Billy, the way that I would have someone I knew well, and with all of the others around he had plenty of support. I thought that maybe I could cook something, offer my assistance that way, but there had already been several casserole dishes brought to the house, food enough to feed everyone, and after a while I decided that I needed to take a walk, to get some fresh air.

It wasn't just the need for a breather, or my slight uneasiness that had brought me to the beach; I'd also gotten away in the hopes that it would help Paul somewhat. He'd wanted so badly to stay with me, undoubtedly his blood had been pumping just as fast as mine, but the need of the pack had to come first, and that meant staying near Billy, offering solidarity and support. For some stupid reason I thought that it might help him if I went away for a little while, out of sight, out of mind, you know? What I hadn't considered was the fact that I was _always_ on his mind, which meant that he'd want me always in his sight, a fact that became clear to me when I heard him calling my name from the beach, the tone of his voice leaving me in no doubt of the fact that he was more than a little pissed off.

I turned to answer him, instantly irritated by the fact that he was irritated at me and promptly lost my footing, falling beneath the water. Any other person would have thought to take a deep breath _before_ they hit the water, but me being the way I am, I took that gulp when I hit the water, resulting in me breathing in the ocean, rather than oxygen, and panic hit me immediately, making me flail around as thankfully my feet found the sand once more. That was a comfort, to know that I was on somewhat solid ground again, it didn't however help the fact that I was gulping and croaking, doing my best to breathe, frantic and hysterical as I stumbled around in the water.

One would think, considering the fact that I was his imprint, that Paul would be worried about me, would help me in any way that he could, but also that he'd remain calm, that he wouldn't crash through the water and pick me up rather roughly, tossing me over one shoulder as he made his way back to the safety of the beach, scolding me like I was a small child the entire time.

"I don't know what in hell you were thinking," he fumed, bouncing me along on his shoulder like a demented fireman. "I guess that's why you decided to do something so freakin' brainless, huh? Oh, wait...I know...Because you weren't thinking, am I right?"

Now that was pushing things a little too far, damn it. I was willing to admit that it hadn't been the smartest thing in the world for me to do, wading out into the ocean, knowing that I couldn't swim, but it was his fault that I'd stumbled in the first place, so why should I be blamed for what happened?

"I am not...oomph...brainless," I hissed, my body jolting here and there as I struggled to keep from falling to the ground. "I just wanted to wade into the water...oomph...a little ways, and then you came...oomph...along and scared me."

He stopped so suddenly that I would have been pitched headlong into the surf, had he not clamped one large hand onto my backside, holding me firmly in place. "Are you suggesting that this was _my_ fault?" he asked quietly, dangerously. "The only thing I did was call your name, to get you out of the water before you drowned, which you damn near did anyway. You were the one who tripped over your own feet, _Delilah_, so I don't know where you get the nerve to blame me for your clumsiness."

It was a close race what it was that made me react the way that I did. First, he refused to take responsibility and admit that I never would have stumbled if he hadn't startled me. Secondly, there was the entire issue of him thinking that he had the right to tell me what to do, like he was my father or something, when I was the older one. And lastly, and more than likely, more damningly, he called me Delilah...and I _hated _to be called Delilah...which is why I chose to dig my fingers into his hair, pulling it as hard as I could, in addition to biting down, hard, on the nipple that was hovering by my lip. It seemed like a good idea at the time...who would have thought that he'd get so mad?

I had expected him to shout, then to drop me, which would have been painful, but I'd been bargaining on jumping up and running for my life a split-second after I'd hit the sand, what I hadn't counted on was him bringing his hand down on my bottom with enough force to make me yelp, not just once, but twice, the stinging pain strong enough to bring tears to my eyes. "_That_..._hurt_..._Delilah_," he growled softly. "_Don't_..._ever...do...that...again."_

He had some nerve, the bastard, to even mention the word hurt to me. I'm sure his scalp and nipple had suffered, but he healed quickly, and I didn't, which meant that my ass was going to be throbbing for the rest of the night. For several moments we stood there in the surf, me still flung over his shoulder, biting my lip in a desperate bid to keep myself from crying, when finally he sighed, a deep, weary sort of groan, and gently lowered me to the ground.

I looked down at the sand, at the water splashing against my feet, to my left, then to my right, anywhere and everywhere that didn't include looking at him, because I was humiliated and upset and because I knew that he was staring at me. It did no good to try and hide from him, because he didn't seem inclined to leave anytime soon. It wouldn't have been so bad if I'd been able to keep my composure, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't stop the tears from welling in my eyes, and my damn bottom lip wouldn't stop trembling either, no matter how hard I bit it.

"Look at me sweetheart," he whispered, his voice soft now as his temper faded. How like him to flare-up so quickly and then cool down in an instant, expecting me to do the same. "Please don't cry Lilah...I'm sorry, okay? I never should have lost my temper like that. Oh damn baby...please don't cry. I can take anything else but that."

His voice made my lip quiver even more, and the tears in my eyes refused to stay put, or even better, go away, when he put his hand on my cheek, his thumb wiping away one drop, then another as they coursed down my face. "Oh, come on sweetheart...pull my hair again, bite me if you want to, hell, do anything, just stop crying, ok?"

If I'd _really _wanted to make him pay I could've let go with the waterworks, could have given him a show of what it really looked like when I let myself go, but I detested women who did that sort of thing, as a bid for sympathy or for payback, and I did my best to reign in my emotions, sniffling and wiping my eyes, still refusing to look at him.

"Ah, baby," he whispered, placing his hand beneath my chin, raising my face, entreating me to look in his eyes. "I'm a bastard, okay? I shouldn't have scared you, and I shouldn't have gotten angry. It just scared the hell out of me, knowing that you were in danger, but I never should have taken it out on you."

I was still holding onto a tiny bit of determination to stay mad at him, that and my hurt feelings, my throbbing backside made that pretty easy, but then I went and looked in his eyes and my resolve went right out the window. There was sincerity in his gaze, honest contrition and concern, and my temper was no match for all of that emotion.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked, bending his knees, bringing his eyes down 'til they were level with mine. "Or would you rather stay mad at me for a little while longer?"

I would have liked to have been able to stay mad at him for a week, at least, just to make him suffer, but that was an unrealistic notion, considering the fact that I couldn't even manage to stay mad at him for five minutes. "I suppose so," I answered, sniffling away my residual tears and hurt feelings. "I can't say that I like you very much right now, but I suppose I'll have to forgive you, considering the fact that you apologized...that and because I love you, for some stupid reason that's beyond my comprehension right now...that and I bit you and pulled your hair, which means that I owe you an apology as well. Does your boob still hurt?"

That was one last barb on my part, knowing how much it annoyed him for me to refer to the "pecs" that he was so proud of, as "boobs", no doubt bringing to mind those whose chests weren't nearly as muscular or sexy as his. His eyes twinkled dangerously at me for a moment, but then he started to smile, a familiar smile that caught me in the same spot that it always did, weakening my resolve and my ability to successfully operate as a smartass.

"What do I have to do to make you like me again?" he asked softly, his hand reaching to rest on my cheek, his thumb stroking my lower lip.

I wanted to tell him that there was nothing that he could do that would make it possible for me to like him again, but that would be a lie, and he'd know as well as I did that I was being less than honest.

"You could try to be nice to me," I answered, regretting my words as soon as they were out of my mouth. The truth was that he was almost always nice to me, so what I'd suggested would give him the idea that I thought I was mistreated by him, but instead of looking angry, or hurt, he continued to smile, placing one arm around my back, the other behind my knees, lifting me from my feet once more.

"Yeah, I suppose I could do that," he whispered, kissing first one of my cheeks, then the other. "It's never really been in my nature, the whole 'nice guy' thing, but I could make an exception for you, sweetheart."

He continued to press gentle kisses onto each of my eyes, onto my brows, then the end of my nose, finally my chin, moving achingly...and infuriatingly...slow, teasing me until I was ready to scream with frustration. "Will you just kiss me already?" I hissed, twining my fingers in his hair, doing my best to pull his lips closer to mine.

"I thought that I already was," he answered, trailing his mouth along my jaw. "Or am I mistaken in that belief?"

The wiseass _knew_ what I was talking about...a real kiss, not this soft stuff that was sweet and touching, but which failed to satisfy my needs. "You know what I mean, Paul," I hissed, my irritation growing stronger as he started to chuckle. "You're supposed to be doing your best to be nice to me, not teasing me this way."

I knew that I had hit the mark with that comment, and I closed my eyes and relaxed my lips, thinking that surely he would kiss me properly, but what I wasn't ready for was him lowering me down to the beach, placing me onto the wet sand and sliding his body between my legs, and only then did he kiss me, taking hold of my lips with such a ferocity that I gasped into his mouth.

His hands gripped each of mine, holding them down against the ground as he thoroughly took hold and control over my mouth, of my senses. My first thought as I'd been laid onto the cold, wet sand had been to complain, to accuse him of being insensitive to my needs once more, but as he kissed me, as his heavy warmth settled itself against my body, I found that I was quite comfortable, except for the ache forming between my legs, to accompany that which had hardened my nipples, and it wasn't long before I was rubbing the throbbing spots against him, hoping to find some measure of relief.

With a groan he tore his mouth away from mine, growling as he moved down on my body, his hands leaving mine as he all but tore my t-shirt from my body, followed quickly by my bra, causing the nipples which had already been standing up and aching to harden to a point that was painful. I tried to brace myself for the warm assault from his mouth that I knew was coming, but try as I may I couldn't suppress the mewl of pleasure that rose from my throat as he kissed and licked and suckled my flesh.

There was an overwhelming feeling that things were moving way too fast, at the same time that I felt as though we were going too slow. I gripped the muscles of his shoulders, my head turning from side to side, wetting my hair in the lingering moisture in the sand, my hands digging into his flesh as strong arousal coursed through my body.

He'd been teasing the nipple that hadn't been taken by his mouth with his fingertips, fingers that he moved to the button of my shorts as my whimpers grew louder, deftly unsnapping them, then lowering the zipper. I tried to grab him as he moved away from me, shivering as the cool breeze coursed over my skin, until I realized that he'd moved so that he could remove my shorts, followed quickly by my panties. I stared into his eyes for a moment, and then felt his hands on my shoulders as he gently pushed me back down onto the beach, shivering as my bared flesh met the wet sand.

There were many things that I had learned in my time with Paul, many 'firsts' that I'd experienced, with him as my teacher, despite the fact that I was older, and this was a moment for another of those 'first times'. He lowered his body to the ground, flat on his stomach, wriggling upward until he was between my legs, his face precariously close to my very exposed, very wet, ceaselessly aching flesh, and I fought against a flash of self-consciousness, worrying about how I looked, with him lying so close at me, and even worse, how I smelled, that was until I saw the look in his eyes and the smile on his face, shocking me, seeing those things with his head located between my legs. It may have been scandalous, but it least it took my worries away...now if I could manage to live through what came next I'd be doing alright.

Paul's POV

I'd never went down on any of the women I'd pursued...I'd never had any desire to put my mouth anywhere near the vicinity of snatch, but as I'd found with countless other things, there was a first time for everything where my Lilah was concerned. She was nervous, that was plain to see, and she was more than a little self-conscious, though I wasn't sure why. I couldn't remember another time that I'd seen a prettier...well...you know, and I sure as hell hadn't ever come across one that smelled as good as hers did. It was hard to get a real good look, the moonlight only revealed so much, and the next thing I knew my hands were on her thighs, gently easing them apart, and I looked my fill then, my blood pumping and my dick twitching when I saw the glistening shell pink of her grow darker, wetter beneath my gaze.

Oh damn...this wasn't going to be easy. I already knew that she was a virgin, something I'd never experienced before, the deflowering of an innocent, and what was worse was the fact that she was my all and everything; therefore I was positively terrified of the prospect of causing her pain. On the other hand, she was very turned-on, she wanted me just as much as I wanted her, so the only real issue that remained, moving beyond the apprehension, was how to get the deed done, slowly or quickly? I didn't mean the whole lovemaking deed...that would be done as slowly as I was capable of, what I meant was the initial entry, the taking of her virginity. Some said that it should be done quickly, in the way that you ripped off a Band-Aid, rather than slowly peeling it away, making the pain worse, of course, that wasn't a very helpful image when I thought of the removal of Lilah's innocence. On the other hand, going slowly, little by little, could be much worse, making the pain drag on and on...shit...I was screwed either way...no pun intended.

I decided that the best thing to do was to let all of that work out as it would and concentrated on the task at hand, placing a gentle kiss to the silken softness of one inner thigh, nuzzling my way up to the prize, swallowing hard as my mouth began to water as her scent grew stronger, the sweet tang of her arousal, paired with the muskiness that was always present, her own special aroma. This was one thing that I had absolutely no experience with, and slowly, cautiously, parted her lips, lowering my mouth to tentatively lick her, then raising my head to consider her taste, deciding that it was just as pleasing as her smell, and lowering my head to savor her once more.

For a moment she froze beneath me, barely breathing, but as I continued, as the stroking of my tongue found a rhythm that seemed to work for both of us, she quickly started to come alive, moaning and thrashing, sounds and movements that grew increasingly frantic when I found and paid close attention to the swollen bud nestled in the crest of her folds. Maybe we were far enough away from the house that no one heard her cries, which grew louder and louder, but I found that I didn't care who heard, in fact, I kind of hoped that they did take notice of her shouts...kind of barbaric, I suppose, but I would be happy, knowing that they knew that I was taking good care of my girl.

"Oh...oh, Paul...oh, baby...oh, yes...oh my God!"

My pride, along with key parts of my anatomy swelled when I heard that particular cry, felt her hands dive into and pull rather hard on my hair, causing tears of pain to momentarily well in my eyes. I'd made her come before now, several times, to tell the truth, but this had been a different sort of orgasm, this seemed to be one that she felt all throughout her body, one that seemed to reverberate for several moments, long enough for me to get my shorts off while she was still whimpering and quaking, moving once more to rest between her legs, my cock pressing against flesh that was swollen and wet, all but begging me to come inside.

"Tell me, is it going to be a yes or a no, sweetheart?" I managed to ask, fighting against the urge to pound into her. "Whatever the answer is, I need to hear it now, while I can still stop if I have to."

It wasn't fair of me at all, but I just couldn't help but slide a little bit of myself into her heat, biting back a growl of need and of pleasure. I should have been able to wait patiently for her to answer, I should have backed off, the way that any gentleman would, but the truth of the matter was that I wasn't much of a gentleman, and I had a feeling that my most gallant effort of the night was going to prove to be my ability to last longer than ten seconds once I was finally in her to the hilt.

"Please," she moaned, pressing herself closer against me, making me slide in just a tiny bit further. "Please don't stop honey...I need you so much."

I took a deep breath and shut my eyes, thrilled that she had given me her permission, even more thrilled that she wanted, no, needed, me the way that she did, but also terrified, both of causing her a horrible amount of pain, enough that she'd forget any pleasure I'd given her, and of whether or not I possessed the discipline necessary to last until she'd reached her own state of bliss, because there was no doubt that I would be finding mine.

I settled on a speed that was a compromise between slow and fast, feeling like I was entering a tight cocoon of molten silk, and I winced and took a deep breath as I found the delicate half-moon membrane that meant I was her first, and would be her only, lover, and leaning down to capture her lips I rended it in two, swallowing her cry of surprise, holding myself absolutely still, though it nearly killed me to do so, while she grew accustomed to the feel of me within her body.

I had screwed too many girls in my past, to call it anything other than that would have made a mockery of what I was experiencing at that moment, but I may as well have been a virgin, odd as that sounded, because I'd never felt anything as amazing as her heat, her soft tightness wrapped so snugly around me. I wanted more than anything to finish what we'd started, to find out just how much better what we had together could feel, but her needs had to be put first.

I heard, and felt, her take a deep, shuddering breath, and I was scared to look at her, worried that she may have been crying, but I had no choice when she put her hand on my face and turned me so that I was looking into her eyes, which I was happy to see were devoid of tears.

"I love you Paul," she said shakily, smiling as she ran her thumb over my lips. "I'm ready now, honey."

She lowered her hands to my shoulders and then went and shocked the hell out of me by lifting her legs, twining them around my waist, moving herself on me, up, then down, making me growl deep in my throat. She winced a little as she moved, but recovered quickly enough to thrust herself upwards once more, a movement that I met with one of my own, moving my hands under her butt, tilting her in a way that I knew would help, would heighten her pleasure...or so I hoped.

"I love you too," I whispered, lowering my head to kiss her as I found a slow, steady rhythm with her, tilting her up into each thrust. At first she winced and whimpered just a little, but then her body started to become accustomed to my presence and before long she was murmuring lovey-dovey nothings into my ear and stroking my hair, and I could tell the exact moment that things started to change for her, when things really started to feel good to her.

She'd met each of my movements with one of her own, refusing to lie still beneath me, and she grew more restless, more frantic, writhing underneath me, telling me that my tactics were paying off, and I tried not to listen to her breathless moans and whimpers, I tried not to pay attention to the fact that she was growing increasingly wetter, and hotter, I tried not to feel her nails as they dug into my shoulders, or her legs as they tightened around my waist, focusing instead on the fact that she was almost there, and that I had to last until the moment that I'd pushed her over the edge.

"It's happening," she panted, gripping me tighter, moving even faster beneath me. "Paul...I can feel it...it's happening...oh my God!"

She writhed and shuddered beneath me, her nails scouring my shoulders hard enough that I felt thin rivulets of blood well over to join the sweat that had bathed my entire body. I'd always prided myself on giving girls pleasure during our moments together, I was a jerk, but I'd never been a complete bastard, but I'd never really had the desire to sit back and enjoy watching that exact moment before, and right then, witnessing Lilah's undoing...damn...at the risk of sounding like a complete douche...it was freakin' magical.

She was always beautiful to me, of course, but this had to be the moment where she was the most exquisite woman in creation, and I felt a swell of pride...and of possession...that I would be the only one who would ever know her secret. Her eyes widened, softened, and then seemed to go blind as her moment swept through her. Her throat arched as she cried out my name, her skin flushed, and her tightness, which had already been almost too much to bear, constricted me in its hot silken sheath, stroking me with the throbbing rhythm of her orgasm, until I couldn't stand it any longer.

It was quite cinematic, I suppose, the way that the ocean, which had been pooling around our bodies, chose that precise moment to crash its waves upon us, cascading up my back, underneath us, threatening to sweep us out to sea. Any other time I may have been concerned, but not then, not as the world dimmed around me, my movements speeding to a point that could only be called frenzied, and it wasn't long before my throat was raw from crying out her name as I came apart in her embrace.

For several moments afterward all we could do was hold one another, trembling and kissing weakly, murmuring lovingly to one another, until the water level rose to a point that could prove to be dangerous.

"Paul, honey, I think this water is doing its best to wash us out into the ocean, and I've got sand in places that I don't want to think about," she whispered, slapping my shoulder when I snickered. "Do you think you could find the strength to carry me back to the car?"

It would have been a lot more romantic to stay on the beach, to bask in the morning rays, the ones that were already turning the sky a dusky pink, but I knew that a warm and comfortable bed would be preferable...knowing that we could both use some sleep. Of course, at the moment I felt energetic and wide-awake, not to mention challenged by her little comment about my level of strength.

"I think I might be able to handle that," I said, grinning when she turned to glare at me. "But just to the car, right?"

Damn...she could hit pretty hard for a girl.


	13. That's How I Say Good Morning

Chapter Thirteen

That's How I Say Good Morning

Paul's POV

It was an experience that I'd never grow tired of, one that I wasn't sure how I'd managed to survive so long without, the joy of waking to the morning rays streaming into Lilah's room, into our room, and caressing the body of my sweet girl, naked as always, since I refused to allow her any clothing at night. Hell, the truth of the matter was that I'd keep her naked all of the time, if I could, if we never had to leave our home, but we did have to leave for this and that, which meant that she had to be covered most of the day, but not at night, not in our bed...as a matter of fact, I kind of took it as a personal insult if she slid under the blankets covered in any way...it made me think that she was rejecting me, stupid as that sounded.

She was laying on her side, turned away from me, which deprived me of the sight of her boobs, and the dusky pink nipples that were so sensitive that I barely had to touch them to have her moaning my name, but I was graced with the sight of her backside, and while I had seen plenty of those in my life, hers ranked at the top of a very short list of perfectly round, perfectly soft and pinchable, grabbable asses. What was even more pleasing was the fact that the blanket had slipped during the night, and was now only barely covering the bottom of her cheeks. I found that even sexier, the fact that I couldn't see every curve.

As I laid there on the bed, my hands itching to touch her, excitement and need coursing through my body, I was reminded of the commercials I'd seen on TV, the ones for dudes that couldn't get it up on their own, advertisements for pills to help the poor bastards suffering from _erectile dysfunction_. It was bad enough, I would imagine, having that sort of problem in the first place, but I couldn't even fathom trying to talk to someone about it, and having to say those words...geez...I think I'd just keep it to myself, avoiding both the doctors and the ladies, avoiding the cursed words that personified my pitiful state and ensuring that I wouldn't be one of the many who found themselves on the receiving end of pointed stares and mumbled assurances that I wasn't completely pathetic.

Anyway, the reason I started thinking about that was because they generally said something about seeking medical help if your pecker wouldn't go soft again after four hours, after the pills helped you to make it hard, and I wondered if it was something to be concerned about if a guy got a hard-on, on average, three or four times an hour, whenever his girl was nearby? I knew that I was a young guy, and a constant desire to get a little was a common thing, but it was damned inconvenient, not to mention embarrassing, when you were always _standing at attention_, if you know what I mean...especially when you're in the supermarket and a little old lady notices and starts to follow you around the store...let me tell you, that was a scary freakin' day, one that I hoped I'd never have to experience again.

So there I was, staring at my sweet girl's luscious ass, thinking about erections while I got my first one of the day, finally working up the nerve to wake her up with a hand on her back, even though I knew that doing so before nine could prove to be a fatal mistake, then the damned phone rang, its shrill jingling scaring me half to death. I recovered and started to reach over her to answer it, but she beat me, her voice a cross between a whisper and a croak as she did her best to sound like she'd been awake for hours, even though it was only a little after eight.

"No, I always sound like this in the morning," she lied, bending forward to capture the phone that threatened to slide off the bedside table. The cord was too short, making it nearly impossible to keep the phone from falling if you leaned too far away when you talked on it. It was usually a pain in the ass, but this morning I noticed that it gave me a better view of _her_ ass, something that pleased me immensely. "How have you and Sam been? It's been ages since I've seen the two of you."

So, it was Emily calling, probably wanting some girl to girl type of chatter, but dammit, I had other plans for Lilah this morning, ones that didn't involve her trading gossip with a phone pressed to her ear. Moving slowly, carefully, I slid up close behind her, drawing her hair away from her nape, baring that one spot I loved to stroke, to kiss, because I knew it made her go wild. That was my first line of attack, pressing my lips against the soft skin I'd exposed, smiling as she arched back against me, pressing her curvy backside right where I wanted it.

She turned to look at me over her shoulder, her eyes panicked and aroused and still the slightest bit sleepy, shaking her head in a bid for me to show her some mercy, but I wasn't in a particularly generous mood. I would never force her to do anything she didn't want to do, but I knew as well as she did that she really didn't want me to stop, she was just afraid that she'd be too vocal, that she wouldn't be able to mask her excitement, and that Emily would know _exactly_ what was going on, but personally I figured that if Emily overheard anything it was her own damn fault for calling this time of day...geez...that sounds bad, I suppose, but I'm a possessive guy and I hate it when people interrupt my intentions...especially when they involve me getting friendly with my lady.

"A cookout?" she asked, and I could hear, and appreciate, the strain in her voice, working against the need to moan out loud as my mouth traveled from her nape down her spine, licking and kissing her sweet skin. "That sounds...ooh...pretty good to me. And no, I don't mind...umm...bringing a side dish and dessert."

I couldn't help but chuckle a little bit, even though I knew the sound would no doubt irritate her, possibly endangering my chances of getting a little early morning nookie. "Why am I what?" she asked breathlessly, shimmying this way and that on the mattress, trying to escape from my hand, the one that had lovingly caressed the curve of her ass and was currently making its way between her thighs. "What makes you think that I'm...ooh...moaning?"

The need to chuckle grew stronger, but I resisted the urge to give in and laugh at her. Poor baby...she was so embarrassed, but so turned on as well. I moved even closer to her, close enough that there could be no doubting the driving ambition I had in mind, and then I touched her, growling when I felt how wet she was, how hot she was, and it wasn't much of a search to find that little bundle of nerves straining its way out of the folds that usually kept it hidden out of sight and she was forced to move her mouth away from the phone, to moan into her pillow, to bite it, _hard_, and that pleased me immensely.

"Of course...umm...I'm listening to you, Emily," she panted into the phone, and I had to wonder if Emily was really so dense that she hadn't caught on to what it was that was distracting Lilah and making her moan and groan, or if she was just messing with her, either way I was getting pretty damned tired of the fact that she was distracting my sweetheart. "But now that you mention it...ooh...would you mind if I...oh...call you back later?"

I reached around with one hand, the one that wasn't otherwise occupied, to play with her nipples, pinching and rolling them between my fingers, and after one last stroke to her clitoris I used the other hand to guide myself inside of her body, an action that had her gasping a quick farewell into the phone before she dropped it from her ear, crying out loudly enough to wake the dead.

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath as I felt her clamp onto me, savoring the feel of her tightness as it massaged my flesh. I heard Emily call Lilah's name a couple of times, her voice sounding tinny and distorted through the phone, then the click and buzz of the dial tone after she finally took the hint and decided to leave us alone. Lilah seemed oblivious to the sound, but it was irritating to me, and I leaned over her, grabbing the phone to return it to the hook, an action that pushed me even further into my girl, causing her to cry out once more, making her shudder around me again, even harder than the first time.

Oh yeah...I could definitely get used to this kind of good morning.

Lilah's POV

They all knew...every single one of them...but thankfully most of them had the good manners to try and hide that fact from me. I wondered if Emily had merely told Sam, and the others had read it in his thoughts or had she burned up the telephone wires, telling tales of me moaning and groaning while Paul laid a sensual assault on my body while I was trying to carry-on a conversation with her. I hoped for the former rather than the latter, because Emily was my friend and I'd hate to think of her gossiping about me...either way, all of the looks and whispers and snickers were growing very old, very quickly.

I straightened my bowl of potato salad unnecessarily, having already done so five times, then moved to the tray of brownies and did the same. The tiny table in Emily's kitchen was already overflowing with enough food to feed an army, but considering the fact that there was an entire troop of hungry wolves to feed I decided that it was good that more would be coming and bringing additional reinforcements with them.

"Hey sweetheart," a voice murmured in my ear, making me instantly weak in the knees. "The only thing left for you to do is take that food out dancing, so why don't you tell me what's bothering you."

How like him to be completely oblivious to what was going on around him, or at least to pretend that he didn't have a clue. If he had realized people were talking about us, then surely he wouldn't be holding me the way that he was, the condition that he, that his body, was in becoming more and more pronounced with every second that passed by. He would be offering his support, but not doing anything to raise more of a scandal, wouldn't he? Sure...all of that sounded like the things that a good boyfriend would do, to spare his girl any additional embarrassment...but then...this _was_ Paul that I was talking about and he was renowned for his ego and his blatant disregard for what anybody thought or felt.

Oh, I don't know," I answered quietly, just a little sarcastically. "Maybe it's the fact that everyone that I know is staring at us and talking about us behind our backs. Maybe it's because it's getting a little old, the questions about whether you and I are always so...active...in the morning. Maybe it's because everybody in the surrounding area knows how...vocal...I am when you and I are intimate with one another. Or maybe it's the fact that with all of this going on, with all of the scrutiny around us you still feel the need to come up to me and rub your pecker against my ass...why don't you just take your pick, ok!"

I'd started out quietly, determined not to draw any additional attention to myself or to Paul, but by the end I had raised my voice to an extent that I was nearly shouting and I blushed when I realized that everyone in the house had grown very quiet and was staring at us, as well as quite a few people outside as well. Oh, man...this was quickly going from bad to worse and I would have been very happy to just dive underneath the table and hide for the next five years, at least. Paul, the big jerk, was chuckling like an idiot and pulled me even closer in his arms, and if I'd thought that he was being a little bold before I'd been sadly mistaken..._this_ was what pecker rubbing felt like, almost to the extent that he was marking his territory, for cripes' sake.

"Alright...you nosy bastards have already looked your fill, so why don't you find something else to snicker about, and all of you meddlesome little hens...maybe you ought to have a little talk with your men...about why they haven't made an effort to be more 'active' with you in the morning and why they have such a hard time inspiring you to be more 'vocal' about your feelings, if you catch my drift."

I wouldn't have thought it possible, considering how embarrassed I was, not to mention how angry, but I just couldn't help but laugh at the expression on everyone's face, especially the elder members of the tribe. Paul's words had hit the mark right where it hurt and scandalized the most and suddenly, miraculously, it was like we weren't even there anymore, as quickly as everyone's attention moved away from us.

"When are you going to learn to stop worrying so much about what other people think?" he whispered in my ear, turning me so that he could cuddle me close in his arms. "There's plenty to think about in this world without wasting any time on what people's opinions of your life are. You've got to learn to let all that crap roll off of your back. You've got to learn to tell people to piss off...you've got to learn to throttle Emily for her inability to be a little more selective about who she invites to these get-togethers."

That last little bit threw me, or at least it did until I turned to see Mary coming through the door...followed closely by Sonny, and then everything was crystal-clear to me. Obviously Emily had been compelled to invite Mary, considering the fact that she was an elder member of the tribe and wherever Mary went, Sonny was sure to follow, the stunted little worm.

Well...everything else had been such a mess today...why should I hope for anything better?

* * *

I thought to myself that it couldn't get much better than this as I sat back in my chair, filled to the point of bursting from the bounty of food I'd just consumed, enjoying my front row seat to the best show on the Rez...the one that had Sonny frozen in his chair, scared at least half to death, too petrified to even partake of the free grub that was no doubt the main attraction that had led him to Emily's in the first place.

I don't think that there were too many members of the tribe that were thrilled that Emily and Sam had invited the Cullen's to the cookout, but none of them looked particularly scared, not even Mary, but then, the Cullen's were polite enough to keep their distance, knowing that their presence wasn't necessarily welcome ...Sonny, on the other hand, was receiving a completely different type of reception from our vampire friends.

The humongous one, Emmett was his name; I think, had taken the seat right beside Sonny and wasn't saying a word, just watching him from the corner of his eye, crowding closer and closer to him until Sonny was perched on one butt cheek, doing his best to keep himself from tumbling out of his chair.

Jasper sat directly across from him, staring at him with a slight smile on his face. I knew from personal experience that he was capable of calming Sonny's frazzled nerves, if he'd wanted to, but it would seem that he had no desire to offer any ease or assistance to the spiteful tub of guts, something that pleased me immensely.

Everyone else was scattered here and there, chatting amongst themselves, all in a circle around Sonny and Carlisle made the effect complete by stopping by the chair next to mine. "May I?" he asked, gesturing toward the empty seat. "Yes, please do," I answered, briefly turning my attention from the entertainment to look at the vampire/hunk of manliness as he sat down beside me.

Paul had gone to speak with Sam about pack related topics, and I wondered how long he'd be able to stay away once he saw who it was that was sitting next to me. I loved him more than life, heart and body and soul, but there was no denying the fact that Dr. Feelgood had the ability to make me just a little hot and bothered, try as I may to ignore that fact.

"I would try to tell them that they should behave themselves, but that would be a futile attempt at teaching them manners, don't you think?"

His voice was soft and filled with humor, and I wondered if I would be considered a hussy for feeling the way that I did each time he spoke to me.

"He made a critical mistake the other day and referred to Alice and Rosalie as, and I ask that you please excuse me before I say this, 'albino sluts'. Needless to say, his comments didn't go over well and Emmett and Jasper decided that it would be apropos to scare him...just a little...in an attempt to teach him some manners."

It was odd, how relaxed I felt, sitting so close to a vampire. I knew that Dr. Cullen had earned the respect of the pack, but most weren't exactly eager to form any sort of rapport beyond that respect. I would have chalked my feelings up to my shameful crush on him, but the feelings of comfort were separate from the way that I felt when he looked at me or spoke to me. This was the knowledge that I had that he was a good man, despite his status as a vampire, and none of us would ever have to worry about him or his family harming anyone...it just wasn't in their nature.

"He could definitely use a lesson in good manners," I answered, glaring at Sonny across the way, taking pleasure in the fact that he was petrified, even though I knew that he really didn't have anything to fear. Carlisle looked at me, his eyes growing thoughtful as he studied me, and I felt myself flush in response to his scrutiny. He then turned to look at Sonny, then back to me, a sudden understanding dawning on his face.

"Was he responsible for the burns that I treated?" he asked quietly, running one icy fingertip over the scars on my palm. His touch was so different than Paul's, and I didn't enjoy it nearly as much, but it _was_ comforting to me. I looked away from him and nodded, embarrassed at the twinge of pain that crossed my face and the tears that filled my eyes.

"Well then, now that I know that, I must admit that I'm glad that I didn't correct their behavior. As a matter of fact, they rather look as though they could use a little help, don't you think?"

Actually, they looked like they were doing just fine, but who was I to deny him the pleasure?

"I think the saying is 'the more the merrier', is that right?" I answered; smiling as he stood to move closer into the circle, a smile that froze on my face when I saw Paul watching us, his expression livid...oh, damn...this could get ugly.

"Does he know the truth...about your hand, that is?" Carlisle asked, catching Paul's eye, something that I knew could be dangerous, on a wolf level, at least, the whole thing about it being a sign of aggression, a confrontation.

"Yes...Sonny told him, right before I learned the truth about the pack," I answered, doing my best to capture Paul's attention, but to no avail. He was staring Dr. Cullen down, looking as though he had every intention of attacking him. It didn't help that Carlisle kept touching me, innocent contacts that I knew he meant only as support and comfort, but that Paul was interpreting as a crossing of boundaries...that much was crystal clear to me.

"Excellent," he murmured, patting my arm one last time before crossing the yard to where Paul stood stewing. At first I contemplated the unlikelihood that the good doctor had a death wish, that was until I saw that my wolf man was actually listening to Carlisle, and then he smiled, which was reassuring but still kind of scary, paired with the anger that still heated his eyes.

They spoke for about five minutes and the next thing I knew they were making their way to the circle surrounding Sonny, seating themselves in amongst the ranks and it dawned on me then what had just taken place. It was another alliance, a necessary joining to insure that Sonny's day was about to go from bad to worse. It would have been compassionate, humane, if I was to feel some sympathy for the little worm, but I was kind of short on kindness today.

I was right...this was going to be one hell of a good show.


	14. I Never Saw That One Coming

Chapter Fourteen

I Never Saw That One Coming

Lilah's POV

Summer was winding itself down to an end, lingering in what was the warmest month throughout most of the nation, but while the temperatures would still be blistering hot in my home state, here in my new home the temperature hovered in the early seventies, which was a welcome change for me. Disregarding my wolf man, I hated the heat, couldn't stand sweating, and would have been looking forward to a day at the beach, basking in my newfound love of swimming in the mild weather...if I hadn't been sick, that is.

But the truth of the matter was that I _was_ sick...as a dog, to be perfectly honest, and I'd finally consented to go to the doctor, after Paul had pestered me for a week, threatening me with all different types of nonsense, finally holding firm on his refusal to get me anymore of the cinnamon rolls that I'd become rather addicted to this past week until I went to see the doctor. I don't know why I wanted the damn things so much anyway...I couldn't keep anything down, but that hadn't stopped my cravings for the sweets, and I'd finally caved, which was why I was sitting on a pitifully cushioned table, my body barely covered by the hospital gown I'd been provided, waiting for Dr. Feel-good to make an appearance.

I'd been a little shocked that Paul had agreed to me seeing Dr. Cullen, but I guess that he'd figured since it was my one stipulation, the one thing I'd insisted on, that he was left with no other option...unless he wanted me to throw a holy terror of a fit and refuse to go. That was another thing that was so odd about me lately...I'd been on an emotional rollercoaster, up one day and down the next, making Paul half-crazy with my mood swings, the poor man.

Even more surprising was that Dr. Cullen had agreed to see me. He was an emergency room physician, after all, and my condition hardly qualified as an emergency, but he'd agreed none the less, and it was only now, that I was all but naked, save for a paltry cotton gown that tied around my neck, that I fully realized that he was going to see me this way...even if he didn't do a full examination, all he had to do was walk around the table and he'd see my naked ass! What in hell had I been thinking? I must have been fully, completely, and absolutely out of my mind! The only question now was whether or not I could get into my clothes and make an escape before he made his appearance. Paul would be mad at me for skipping out, but there was no doubt in my mind that I would rather deal with his temper than the embarrassment of Carlisle Cullen possibly getting an eyeful of my rather generous backside.

I was on the verge of hopping down off of the examining table when the curtain that had been providing me with privacy slid open, and Dr. Cullen entered my world, making me quickly backtrack, an action that resulted in considerable strain and possible destruction being wreaked upon the gown shielding my body from his golden gaze, a gaze that grew amused, and at the same time, sympathetic as I did my best to compose myself, when what I really wanted to do was curl up and die, under the examining table, as a matter of fact, if that could be arranged.

"Good morning Lilah," he said quietly, the corner of his mouth quirking almost imperceptibly as he stepped into the tiny room provided by the four walls of curtain, closing the makeshift "door" behind him. I'm sure that he had intended the smile as one kept to himself, but I noticed it and the flush that had took over my face burned so badly that it was nearly painful, though the pain was more than likely due to my complete mortification. "I understand that you haven't been feeling well. Rumor has it that you've been vomiting for a week or so now. Is that a correct estimation?"

I had a good idea who it was that had been spreading those rumors...poor Paul...it was so hard for him, sitting outside the bathroom door, sometimes helplessly pacing as I tossed up the contents of my stomach. It had to have been a distasteful sentry, listening to me puke, but he'd never seemed repulsed, just concerned. Of course, that didn't stop me from blushing anew, imagining him discussing my upchucking with Dr. Cullen, which was ridiculous, considering that he was a doctor, but as usual, knowing that he was used to hearing and/or seeing things that were embarrassing to me didn't do a damn thing to make me feel any better.

"Yes, that's right," I answered, trying to look anywhere but his eyes, still struggling to regain my composure. "A week and a half at least, maybe even two weeks."

"Has the vomiting been limited to once a day, or are the instances frequent throughout the day?"

"Usually it's just once a day, although yesterday it was twice."

He'd been steadily writing in my chart, nodding as he did so, meeting my eyes occasionally, but suddenly he stopped, his face growing thoughtful as he gave me his complete attention.

"Are the bouts of nausea caused by something, say movement or a smell, or do they just occur spontaneously?"

"Usually it's early morning queasiness, though the second time yesterday happened right after I caught a whiff of some eggs that I'd just fried."

It dawned on me at the same moment that I saw it in his eyes, a comprehension of what these symptoms could very well mean and my stomach sank. There was no denying that it was something that I wanted, had wanted ever since I could remember, but what would Paul say? Would he be happy at all, or would he see the situation as a burden?

"When was the first day of your last menstrual period?" he asked quietly, almost gently, no doubt picking up on the sense of panic that was emanating from me.

I had to think for a moment, counting backward on my mental calendar. "The last day of June," I answered matter-of-factly. "The one on the thirtieth was my last period." It was odd that I was speaking of something so personal as my menstrual period without stammering or blushing, considering the fact that my time of the month was much more personal than tossing my cookies...maybe I was in shock. Unfortunately I wasn't enough in shock to stop myself from realizing that it should have been obvious to me that I was probably preggers...after all, my period _was_ four weeks late...how could I be so stupidly unobservant?

"Have you been unusually tired, in addition to the nausea and vomiting? Have you found that you're moodier than usual or lightheaded when you stand up? Have you felt the need to urinate more frequently than you normally do?"

Damn...since when was he so talkative? And what was worse was that he didn't even bother to give me a chance to answer one question before firing off another one. My temper started to grow, which was a totally new sensation where Dr. Cullen was concerned.

"I'm pretty well wiped-out all of the time," I snapped, my eyes filling with tears, which humiliated me, resulting in an increase of my anger. "Am I moody? Hmm...I guess you could say that Doc, considering the fact that I feel like death warmed over most days. I can't say that I've been lightheaded...I've been a little too preoccupied with puking my guts up every day, but the frequent urination...let's just say that when I'm not throwing up into the toilet, it's a pretty damn good bet that I'm peeing into it instead...does that clear things up for you?"

About halfway through my tirade he'd backed up somewhat and stood, arms crossed, one hand resting on his chin, watching me with an expression that was a cross between bemusement and astonishment on his face, and I slowly, painfully, became aware of the sound of my voice reverberating through the eerily silent ER. Oh dear God...had I really just railed at Dr. Cullen like a fishwife? There was no doubting the fact that I had, no matter how much I might wish for the opposite...damn...what a disaster.

"I guess that this wouldn't be the best time to ask if you've experienced any breast tenderness or weight gain then, would it?" he asked softly, his voice even and gentle, just as it always was, though he had every reason to tell me off, if he wanted to. He was the one doing me a favor, affording me the opportunity to see someone that I was more comfortable with, someone I knew, and I'd repaid his good deed by making a complete ass out of myself.

"I've noticed a little pain in my breasts," I answered quietly, thinking of the times that Paul and I had made love and his attention to my nipples had raised whimpers from me that didn't have anything to do with feeling good...those hadn't been easy times for my wolf man to get through. "As for the weight gain...I'd say that it's a safe bet to mention that I'm definitely...puffier...than usual."

That comment earned me a smile, paired with a shaking of his head, kind of in that "oh, come on now" sort of chastisement that is the main reason girls fish for compliments from gorgeous men...so that they can deny the fact that we look hideously fat...it's really kind of sad, isn't it? It should have made me feel better, the fact that he was engaging me in a little playful banter, but I couldn't stop thinking of what I'd said and how I'd said it, and I trained my eyes on the floor, doing my best not to give into the rollercoaster of emotions that was encouraging me to give into the need to have a good cry.

"There are several things that I pride myself on Lilah," he said, stepping across the tiny space to stand in front of me, but I refused to look at him. "I believe that I am a loving husband and father, that I am a caring, compassionate and competent physician, and that I am patient and understanding. Am I mistaken in those beliefs?"

I shook my head and continued to stare at the floor, thinking to myself that he'd pretty well described himself to a tee, except that he'd forgotten that he was gorgeous and had the ability to make women's mouths water profusely, but then, that kind of conceited statement would have never come out of his mouth, would it?

"I also consider myself to be a good judge of character, and I know you very well, Lilah."

_That_ made me look at him, just for a moment, wondering what he could mean by that statement. Truthfully, he and I were nearly strangers, but when I thought about it, he did look at me in a way that suggested that we had a connection. Nothing romantic, of course, no matter what my silly fantasies of him might have been, but rather like he understood me the way that Paul did, at the same time that it was nothing like the way that Paul understood me...it was all so weird.

"You're so worried about so many things right now, and most, if not all of these concerns don't warrant this much anxiety. You think that you have behaved abominably, unforgivably to me, and while I must admit that I am unaccustomed to being spoken to in such a fashion by my patients, I am not so thin-skinned to be wounded for the rest of my life, and I'm not so easily offended that I will feel the need to hold a grudge. The hormones that are coursing through your body at this moment are enough to make anyone lash out, and that, paired with what I deduce must have been shocking news, would be enough to make anyone snap, especially a woman who's rather renowned for having a quick temper."

I raised my head quickly and found him smiling at me, a grin that was both teasing and understanding, comforting some of the guilt that I'd been wrestling with. "Carlisle, I'm so sorry," I began, but was stopped by him holding his hand in the air and shaking his head.

"There's no need for you to apologize," he interrupted. "The only reason I even mentioned it was so I could tell you that all is forgiven and forgotten. The other concern that is tying you up into knots is that Paul will be displeased about the news of this child, am I right?"

I nodded, thinking about the old saying of that it took two to tango, and Paul and I had both danced numerous times without any protection knowingly and willingly, but what would he say when he found out that I was knocked up? I knew enough of his past to know that he'd been as far away from being either committed or responsible as a person could be, so why should that change now? Did the whole imprinting thing change a person that much?

"I believe that a man in love, truly in love, thinks of the future, of a wife and a home filled with children, and he is definitely a man who is in love with you, Lilah. You can practically see that future in his eyes each and every time that he looks at you, and I wouldn't be surprised if this child is just the first of many to come...so stop worrying, okay?"

I took a deep breath and nodded my head, smiling when he tweaked the end of my nose before turning to open the curtain and call for his nurse, Louise. From the sound of it I was in for an afternoon of fun, peeing into cups and having needles jabbed into my arms, followed by having to explain everything to Paul. I could only hope that Dr. Cullen was right in what he saw between me and my wolf man, because the more I thought about this baby, the more I wanted it, and it would be the hardest thing I'd ever had to do if I was forced to make a choice between them, but I would, if I had to.

Paul's POV

I was sitting on the hood of my car, waiting outside of the paleface hospital for Lilah, turning the key to my future over and over in my hand, studying it intently, taking notice of each and every flaw, wondering what her response to such a life changing question would be. Damn...I hadn't even met her parents, all I knew about them was what their names were and that her dad was a skin, one of those plains tribes, though I couldn't remember which one. I felt like I should ask him for permission first, I knew that was the custom, but I figured that a snowball in Hell would have better odds of staying frozen than I would have of getting a yes from her Pops, so you could bet your ass that I wasn't inclined to waste my time on that one.

Why had I picked the one with the pearl sitting where the diamond ought to be? At least it was a real pearl, a freshwater one, and the band was real white gold, not some cheap crap that would leave an ugly green ring around her finger. The truth was that I had picked the pearl because the tiny diamond clusters on each side of the pearl looked like little butterflies, circling a snow-white orb, a bunch of sappy, romantic fluff, and I knew that she liked butterflies...geez...I guess I was just a lovesick douche, wasn't I?

Things had been so out of whack lately, what with Jacob running off and the object of his heart's desire entwining herself in unholy matrimony with her leech, then Jacob returned, and became even more of a pain in everyone's ass than he'd been before, and topping all of that off, Lilah had gotten sick, and not just a case of the sniffles, but honest to goodness wretchedly sick. I had worried and fussed over her for what seemed like forever to get her to go to the doctor and once she finally gave in she went and insisted on seeing the bloodsucking doctor, the one who made her all goggle-eyed every time he was around. I could have been a jealous dickhead and threw a fit about her conditions on making herself well, but I was desperate at that point and would have agreed to anything, just as long as she got well again.

The sudden movement of someone entering the parking lot drew my attention, and when I saw that it was Lilah I hurriedly shoved the ring back into my pocket. I'd wanted to accompany her on her appointment, it had been absolutely hellish to be away from her, knowing that she needed me, but Sam had called a meeting, and as always, the pack came first. My irritation at not being able to be with her quickly turned to fear when I saw her face, when I saw how shaky and pale she looked as she moved slowly toward me. Oh crap...how sick was she really? She looked like she was a couple of steps away from death at that moment, and my heart sank, then started that sluggish, heavy thrumming that accompanied real dread, when you just knew that horrible news was coming your way.

It was unthinkable that she had only recently entered my life, hell, she was my freakin' life, but despite that I was in danger of losing her already. What kind of bullshit deal was that anyway? I knew that I'd always been a bastard, a thoughtless jackass who spent most of my time being pissed off and sarcastic when I wasn't whoring my way around town, but dammit...I had changed...drastically so. That had to count for something, didn't it?

Her eyes met, and locked, with mine, and once more I received an unwelcome shock to my system when I saw the fear that was staring back at me, fear mixed with uncertainty and anxiety. Ah hell...it was even worse than I'd originally thought if she was scared by the prospect of telling me the news. I made up my mind then and there. I had to ask her before she told me what she had learned, because if I waited until later she might think that I was proposing out of guilt.

I jumped down off of the hood of my car and rushed over to where she stood, grabbing hold of her and taking her into my arms, holding her like it was for the last time, only loosening my grip when I heard the bones in her back snap and her tiny exclamation of pain. I mumbled an apology that was no doubt unintelligible, and then quickly released her, dropping down to one knee, holding tight to her hand.

"I've been thinking about what I was going to say when this moment came, I thought that maybe I should recite a poem, but I don't know any poems. I know a few limericks, but nothing that would suit this occasion, not by a long shot. Then I thought that I should tell you that you're my reason for living, that you're the reason that my heart keeps on beating, wimpy greeting card stuff like that, but you already know all of that, don't you? I guess that I could make promises to you, in exchange for a yes, I could swear that I'll always be faithful, or that I'll never stop loving you, that I'll never hurt you or abandon you, but again, I'd be telling you things that you already know, so that can't be the way to go."

She didn't say anything, she just stared down at me with the oddest expression on her face, her eyes growing almost comically big when I pulled the ring out of my pocket and slid it onto the fourth finger of her left hand. "Please say yes, sweetheart," I whispered. "I promise that you'll never be sorry that you did."

I waited for her to smile, possibly even to cry, with happiness, of course, and most of all I waited to hear a yes, but there was nothing. It was one of those moments where you would have heard the brief chirping of crickets, had you been watching a movie, and I started to think that I'd really screwed up, and then her lip started trembling, and her eyes started to well with tears, but not the happy ones I wouldn't have minded seeing...these were tears that said that she was upset...dammit.

"I wanted to be the one to tell you," she whispered, her voice growing husky, the way it always did when she got emotional, and again I found myself battling fear, imagining the worst. "And I don't want you to think that I expect you to marry me. I want you to ask me to be your wife for the right reason, not because you feel an obligation."

My fear was swiftly turning into anger, an emotion that I fought against, not wanting to give it any authority. "First of all, no one's told me anything sweetheart. Whatever news that you wanted to tell me will be coming straight from your lips, not secondhand. And another thing, I'm not asking out of any other _obligation_ but the one that insists that I have to make myself one with my life mate. I can't think of a better reason to have you for my wife, you know. It's not like I'm ever going to want anyone else...you kind of ruined me on wanting any other woman."

At least that earned me a smile, a wobbly one complete with trembling lips, but a smile just the same. "There's something that you need to know before I answer you," she said, reaching out to take hold of my hand, pulling me up onto my feet. "Then you can decide whether or not you want to take the question back."

Again my temper fired up, and again I tamped it down. "I already know that I won't take it back," I said, fighting to keep the irritation out of my voice. "But go ahead and tell me what it is that's bothering you so bad."

She took my hand and placed it on her tummy, staring deep into my eyes, giving me the impression that she was looking _into_ me, rather than at me. "April the sixth," she whispered, throwing me completely for a loop. "That's when this little one will be making his or her arrival."

I'd never been the smartest guy in the world, and I was upset and scared and just a little pissed off, so it took me a few minutes to figure out what she meant. I stared at her, totally in shock, then I noticed that my face was hurting, because of my huge smile, and I grabbed hold of her as gently as I was capable of at that moment, swinging her around and 'round until I remembered that she tended to puke a lot lately, and I slowly lowered her to the ground, kissing her all over her face until she was laughing, those tears in her eyes the happy kind, the ones that didn't hurt me the way that the others did.

"Say it again," I asked, almost begging. "Tell me that I'm going to be a dad."

"You're going to be a daddy, Paul," she said softly, her eyes glowing happily, just the way I liked them to do. "The very best daddy."

I could feel the prickling of tears in my own eyes and shook my head against them. I didn't cry...that just wasn't going to happen...so I smiled instead, then remembered the ring on her finger and the question that she still hadn't answered.

"Well?" I asked, grabbing hold of her hand, linking her fingers with mine.

She smiled at me and rolled her eyes, leaning forward to kiss me. "Of course I will," she answered, and there it was again, the damned tears in my eyes, only this time they wouldn't be chased away, no matter how much I smiled.

Oh, well...I guess it was alright to cry sometimes...just so long as it didn't become a habit, you know?


	15. Closing a Door and Opening a Window

Chapter Fifteen

Closing a Door and Opening a Window

Lilah's POV

The bedroom was crowded, filled with our furniture and now with a brand-new honey-hued maple crib and matching changing table, but it didn't feel cramped or uncomfortable, instead it felt like everything was finally as it should be. I had finally managed to find the bedding set that I thought would be perfect, and would jive with the color palette in the house, and had just put on the finishing touches when I heard the front door open, and the deep voice calling for me, making my heart flutter, just as it always did.

I hurried out of the room, well, as hurriedly as one was capable of when she was eight months pregnant, and found him in the kitchen, fridge door wide open, bending over to peer inside. Now, I'd had plenty of time throughout our relationship to admire his backside, believe me when I say that I'd made an extensive study on the subject, but this was a sight that greeted me far too rarely...my wolf man's buns accentuated rather nicely, almost shamelessly, as a matter of fact, by a well-worn, tightfitting pair of Levi Strauss blue jeans.

He generally tended to stick to the wearing of cutoffs year-round, which gave me the opportunity to admire his chiseled muscles year-round as well, but lately he'd taken to clothing himself in faded blue jeans that molded themselves to his body, just as tantalizingly in the front as they did in the back, if you know what I mean, and equally tight fitting plain white t-shirts. The amendment of his wardrobe was due to his new job in construction, fixing fences and chicken coops and whatever else needed to be done around town, and it was no wonder that the majority of the clients that sought his services were women. What better way was there to pass the day than to watch a gorgeous guy in tight clothing, sweating and toiling away on your behalf? It was a good thing that I had absolute assurance of his faithfulness to, and his love for, me, otherwise I'd be on edge all of the time, picturing one indiscretion after another.

After a few moments had passed by, standing with the refrigerator door open the whole time, even though he knew it irritated me when he did that, he found what he was looking for, a cold beer after a long day of work, and straightened, slamming the door and twisting off the cap. "Lilah, baby," he bellowed, taking a deep plug from the bottle, sighing appreciatively after he did so. "I'm home!"

He drained the beer in seconds and then stood still, more than likely debating over whether or not he should have another one, then, apparently deciding that a second one wouldn't hurt he opened the refrigerator door and bent inside, muttering beneath his breath because I hadn't rushed to greet him. Again I admired his backside and thought to myself that there were other ways to greet someone, ways that didn't involve a hug and a kiss, and with that line of thinking in mind I reached out and goosed him, never thinking that he'd react as badly as he did.

He let loose with a sound that could never be called masculine, not to any stretch of the imagination and jumped into the air. Unfortunately his head was still inside the fridge when he leapt into the air and I winced when I heard his noggin smack against the top of the refrigerator, followed by a string of curses that should have scandalized me, but I was too worried about him...and about what he might do when he got through cussing and rubbing his head.

I may have chosen the cowardly, yet wise, course of action and made a run for it, had I not been hugely pregnant, but the fact of the matter was that I _was_ hugely pregnant, and as such I would have only made it a couple of steps before he caught up with me, had I chose to run away, and so I stood my ground instead, doing my best to smile apologetically as he turned around to glare at me, looking mad enough to spit nails.

He immediately started to smile, a reply to my own attempt at a grin, but his was the scary, slightly maniacal grin of someone who may very well have been beaming because they were imagining inflicting bodily harm of one type or another upon your person. I knew instinctively that Paul would never do anything to hurt me, or the baby, but he was also the type who reacted with anger first, and it was only after he'd had time to calm down that he would think rationally, so it was up to me to do my best to calm him down.

"I'm sorry, honey," I said softly, slowly approaching him, reaching out to stroke his arm. "I didn't mean to spook you...I just reacted, you know, caught up in admiring your...ahem..._ass_ets and gave in to temptation, not thinking of the consequences of my actions."

He blinked then, taking away most of the anger from his eyes, and his smile changed, from one that was maniacal to one that was smug and satisfied. I think that it was a common thing amongst men, to be pleased when they were told that they were irresistibly sexy by a woman, especially when it made said woman lose any sort of control over her senses, but Paul was especially conceited in this area. He was my wolf man, but he came across as more of a spoiled and pampered cat when I laid on the charm and told him that he made me so hot that I just couldn't keep my hands off of him...which wasn't a stretch on the truth at all, but which I endeavored to keep to myself as much as possible, lest I indulge his vanity.

"Is that right?" he growled, and I would have sworn that I felt the rumble of his voice grab hold of me right between my thighs, just like it always did. "Well...I guess I can't hold it against you then, can I sweetheart?"

He slowly moved toward me, wearing that smile that was so smug that it verged on the edge of absolute arrogance, reaching out his hand to cup my cheek, then traveling down to stroke my bulbous tummy, the one spot that was quickly becoming a favorite of his, competing well, even when boobs and butt were in the mix. He leaned down, obviously contemplating a smooch, when suddenly he drew back, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me.

"Wait just a minute sweetheart," he murmured, staring into my eyes, searching for something, a something that was the truth, I would imagine. "I think that I see it there in your eyes...yep...there it is...and that paired with the scent in the air...what is that, hmm...could it possibly be...oh, I don't know..._bullshit_, maybe?"

I reluctantly nodded, shifting from one foot to another, in an embarrassing mimicry of someone who needed to pee in the worst way. "I wasn't lying to you Paul," I insisted, smiling hesitantly in a bid to smooth over the feathers that I'd undoubtedly ruffled once more. "I honestly was so preoccupied with grabbing your ass that I didn't think about the fact that I'd probably startle you...that much wasn't bullshit...though I probably...I did...lay it on a tad thicker than what I felt. I just didn't want you to be mad at me, you know?"

I was glad that he returned the smile, paired with a gentle stroking of his thumb across my bottom lip. "It was stupid of me to get mad," he whispered, leaning down to replace his thumb with his lips. "I've been working on that problem, my temper, but I haven't quite managed to nip it completely in the bud just yet."

He had been making a real effort to stifle his tendency to fly off of the handle, and as someone who had somewhat of a temper, I knew that it was an accomplishment that would take some time. "I know you have, honey," I answered, wrapping my arms around his waist, nipping at his mouth with my teeth. "Come back into the bedroom with me."

His eyes darkened, filling with desire, while a smile that could be called nothing but wicked curled the corners of his lips. "Now you're talking, sweetheart," he said, bending to place one arm beneath my butt, lifting me up into his arms. I wanted to protest, to tell him no, that I was too heavy, but I knew that I'd just be wasting my breath, not to mention the fact that I'd probably insult him if I did so, so I just kept that thought to myself.

"That's not what I meant," I said, rolling my eyes and doing my best to pretend that I was exasperated by his tendency to leap to the notion of sex every time I said something that had even the teensiest hint of a double entendre, though I could see where what I'd said could have been taken as more than a suggestion, and instead be heard as an outright invitation. "I got the baby's half of the room finished just as you got home, and I want your opinion on how it looks."

"Oh...ok," he said, his face falling for just a moment, until he saw that I was watching him, at which time he quickly resumed a smile, though it paled in comparison to the lascivious grin that he'd had when he thought that he'd just got lucky. "That sounds great, sweetheart."

I bit back a smile of my own as I leaned forward to kiss his cheek. The poor man...I was always doing that to him, teasing him, but I'd be sure to make up for that later on, after we looked over the changes I'd made to the room. Of course, he'd done most of the actual work, assembling the crib and the changing table, all I'd handled was the decorating, but that was only because he'd refused to let me handle anything that he thought was more strenuous. Honestly, the way he acted you'd think that pregnant women were made of spun glass, ready to shatter at the mere hint of roughness...it was one of the many reasons that I was dreading the moment that I went into labor...it wasn't the main reason, but it was up there in the top ten.

He carried me into the bedroom and slowly, gently lowered me to the ground, to stand on my own two feet, and once again I was tempted to roll my eyes at his exaggerated precautions for my safety. What did he think was going to happen? Did he really think that I was so clumsy that I'd fall flat on my face if he didn't stand there; bracing me with his hands for several moments after my feet touched the ground? I found his concern touching...some of the time...but then there were other times when I wanted to tell him to stop mollycoddling me, because I wasn't some fragile little thing that was going to shatter if he didn't keep a constant eye on me.

He looked over at the crib, and for one brief moment he smiled approvingly, then just as quickly the smile died, and he just looked bewildered.

"What is that?" he asked, pointing in the direction of our baby's bed, throwing me for a loop. Surely he knew that it was the crib that we'd chosen together, the one that he'd assembled for me the night before.

"Do you mean the bed?" I asked slowly, my confusion evident in my voice. "Or were you referring to the changing table?"

I may have made an effort to cover up the fact that I wanted to roll my eyes at him, but did he bother with the same consideration? No, he made no secret of his eyes rolling heavenward, accompanied by an exasperated sigh. "No Lilah...I wasn't talking about the crib or the changing table. What I meant was the bedding that you put in the crib."

I turned to look at the bedclothes in question, the ones that he obviously found so offensive, and wondered why that was. I thought that they were absolutely adorable. Maybe it was because I'd picked them out myself, without getting his opinion, but then, he hadn't seemed to think that I needed his help when I'd mentioned it before, so this sudden change of heart was a surprise to me.

"You don't like it?" I asked, though I knew already that he didn't. "I picked it because it matches the walls, and because I thought that yellow would work as a nice, unisex color."

Again he rolled his eyes at me and I found that I was quickly growing tired of that particular reaction from him. "You can't put that girly crap on my son's bed," he said in a tone that immediately set my teeth on edge. "No boy needs pretty yellow blankets with freakin' bumblebees embroidered along the edges. What are you trying to do...turn him into a sissy or something?"

For a moment all that I could do was stare at him disbelievingly, not finding my voice until I saw that he was completely serious, at which time my temper bolstered my ability to speak once more. "You can_not_ be serious," I said, fighting against the need to shout. "First of all, whether or not I have your son or your daughter in here," I said, gesturing to my protruding stomach, "remains to be seen. Secondly, there is nothing that is predominantly feminine _or_ masculine about this crib set...it will work for either one, and lastly, I seriously doubt that something as simple as the color of yellow, or the embroidering of bumblebees is enough to turn anyone into a _sissy_...and if it were that easy, we'd have to hide him from the world, lest he see the sun or the bees flitting around outside...but then there are all of the freakin' walls, the ones that are _yellow_, so I guess we're screwed no matter what we do, aren't we!"

I had started off my spiel with the best of intentions to keep a tight hold on my temper, to not shriek like a banshee, but in the end I didn't have the ability to stop myself from flying into a rage. I'd had just about had all I could take of his insistence that this child was a boy, as a matter of fact, if I even dared to suggest otherwise he'd grown withdrawn and sullen, like I'd insulted his masculinity. Another thing that I'd grown tired of was his macho, bullshit ideas about boys being tough, and not being sissies and decided then and there that I'd be damned if I would let him brainwash any sons that we had with his ideas on what made a man and what made a girly excuse for a man.

"The bedding stays," I continued, not even bothering now to lower my voice. "I consider myself to be someone who is open to compromise, but so help me Paul, if you so much as touch that crib set I will be sure that you regret it...do you catch my drift?"

I turned to leave the room, knowing that my racing heart and the fact that a fine mist of red had settled over my eyes were a good indication that I needed some time to myself. I'd been all set to be sweet to him, to demonstrate how much I wanted him, how much I needed him, but not now...hell, no...As far as I was concerned he could cut holes in his pockets and play with himself, the sexist little peckerwood.

I'd almost made it out the door, he was almost smart enough to let me get the last word, then I heard it, "Yes ma'am..._Delilah_," and all of my intentions to do the right thing went right out the bedroom window...along with the little rocking chair I'd bought with the intention of refurbishing it for our baby.

I guess he wasn't the only one with an anger management problem, was he?

Paul's POV

I'd been scared plenty of times in my life, not that I was one to admit it, but this had to be, no, scratch that, this _was_ the most scared that I'd ever been. Part of me wanted to hide until it was all over with, until Lilah was safe and not hurting anymore, but that would have been the actions of a puss, so despite the fact that my stomach was turning cartwheels in the worst way possible, and even though I was sweating profusely, enough that it had soaked through my clothes, I bucked up the nerve to enter our bedroom, where she'd insisted on giving birth to our son, ready to do my duty as his dad, as her man.

The leech doc had found her a good baby doctor, a nice grandmotherly type, who'd decided, for some stupid reason, to take a vacation one week before my son was due to make his arrival, and abracadabra...Lilah had been gifted with having the vampire seated between her legs, looking at the sweet spot between her thighs, freakin' staring at the what I'd claimed as my own as she struggled against the pain, that had to have been nearly overwhelming, biting her bottom lip until it was torn and bloody, her stifled screams escaping as pitiful moans.

I stared at her most personal flesh, just like the good doc was, my fear increasing as I watched it contort and threaten to tear. Oh, crap...the moment was swiftly arriving and I was frozen in the doorway of our room, gaping like a damned moron instead of helping her in any way that I could, and for one crazy moment I wished that the mind control leech was there, anything that would afford me the opportunity to calm down.

He didn't have the ability to read minds, at least, not that I was aware of, but the doc must have sensed me standing there, frozen, and he turned to look at me, calm and collected, just like he always was.

"Lilah needs you right now, Paul," he murmured, smiling at me encouragingly. "It won't be much longer and your child will be born."

I would have corrected him, would have said that my son would soon be born, but kept my mouth shut, knowing that hearing me say that would make Lilah mad, and she didn't seem to need any help in that area...as a matter of fact, if looks could have killed I would have been dead and buried on the spot.

"It's about damned time you showed your face," she hissed, wincing from one pain or another. "You sure as hell didn't have any squeamishness when it came to making this child, but now that it is almost here you go and get all _delicate_ on me..."

A contraction hit her, one that silenced her words, drowning them out with a shriek of agony. Tears ran from the corners of her eyes as she gripped the headboard with one hand, the other reaching out to me. I swallowed hard against my fear as the first sign of my son showed itself, the crown of his head covered with dark hair, bringing with it a trickle of pink fluid, not quite blood, but not just water either. My qualms were instantly forgotten, knowing how badly she needed me, and I rushed to the side of the bed taking her hand in mine, then climbing onto the mattress, placing myself behind her.

"Your baby's head is crowning, Lilah," the doctor said, taking hold of her hand, placing it between her legs. "It's time for you to push now."

This was a part that I remembered from the classes we'd gone to and as gently as I could I pulled her back until she was resting against my chest, placing one hand under each knee, helping to hold her legs apart. It occurred to me that the doctor was getting one hell of an eyeful from his position, but he may as well have been oblivious...or gay...for all of the notice he gave that he was staring at a very naked, up-close glimpse of womanliness. Of course, this particular glimpse was one that was swollen and strained, with a baby's head beginning its descent into the world, with blood and funk trickling down the edges...aw, shit...I hoped that he didn't get any ideas about taking a bite, once he got a good whiff of the blood, veggie only diet be damned, because it was going to put one hell of a damper on this happy day if I had to rip his head off.

If he had any ideas about turning bloodsucker on Lilah he did an admirable job of hiding it. His eyes searched hers, focused and filled with tranquility, growing serious as she arched back against me, her fingers twining into the sheets, twisting them until I was sure that I heard them rip as a pain hit.

"Alright Lilah...put your chin to your chest and bear down hard, like they taught you in Lamaze...one...two...three...four..."-Lilah shrieked and twisted the sheets even harder, definitely tearing them that time-"focus Lilah...five...six...seven...eight...nine...ten...very good Lilah...breathe now and rest while you can."

Ten seconds had never seemed to last forever, but that was before I'd experienced them while the woman that I loved struggled to bring our son into the world. It was the hardest thing that I'd ever done in my life, to see her in pain that was obviously excruciating, unable to do one damned thing to help her, no matter how much I wanted to.

"That was good, sweetheart," I murmured into her ear, leaning down to kiss her on her cheek. I halfway expected her to hiss at me to shut up, and it pleased me when she didn't. She leaned back against me, snuggling, until another contraction hit her and she shot away from my chest, crying out as her belly tightened, bearing down and pushing, just like she'd been taught to do.

* * *

Ninety minutes and she was still pushing, quickly growing exhausted as she moaned and panted, blood and fluid trickling from her body to soak through the sheets and the pad that was meant to protect the mattress. I held her and fought against my rising fear, against the gnawing dread that kept whispering that she could be slipping away, that maybe she was dying...and it was my fault.

"I can't do this anymore, Paul," she whispered, her voice hoarse from her cries of misery. "I want to stop right now. Please tell Dr. Cullen that I've had quite enough, and thank you for coming over, but that there's really no need for him to stay any longer."

She arched against me, seized by yet another pain, spasms that were becoming a source of torture for me as well as her. I met the doctor's eyes and despite my anguish I found that I had to bite back a laugh, an action that I saw mirrored on his face as well.

"You are the strongest woman that I know," I said softly, calmly, repeating "yes, you are Lilah," when she furiously shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes and falling onto her cheeks. "And you _can_ do this sweetheart. I know that you want to stop now. I know that you're tired and that you're in pain, but Dr. Cullen's not going anywhere, baby girl, so you may as well accept that and get back to bringing our little one into the world, okay?"

"Bastard," she hissed, digging her nails into my forearms as she bore down on another pain. "I hate you."

"You just think that now, sweetheart," I answered, biting back a grunt of pain as she drew blood with her fingernails. "You'll think differently once our son is born."

She started to say something in response to my declaration, a something that would have been sarcastic and hateful, no doubt, but suddenly she went absolutely still, her mouth opened in a silent scream, unable to speak, or even to breathe due to the strength of the agony that grabbed hold of her.

"You're almost there Lilah," the doc said, reaching out to take hold of a tiny head, guiding it out, followed by the shoulders. "One more push and your baby will be born."

My son was nearly born, in a matter of moments I would be holding him in my arms, whispering secrets of the world into his tiny ear, reassuring him that I loved him, and that I'd never let anyone hurt him. I was going to be a good dad; I was definitely going to do a better job than my own dad had. My son was going to grow up happy, knowing that his family was complete. His life would be all that I'd wanted my own to be.

Just a minute before, Lilah had been under the impression that she was giving up, but once she realized how close she was, that the moment was within her grasp, her entire demeanor changed and when the doc gave her the last order to push, she did so with a renewed strength and energy, letting loose with a cry that was completely different from anything else I'd heard. This was the shout of a warrior woman headed into battle, and it scared me just a little, at the same time that it made me proud, knowing just how strong she really was.

There were many sounds that I'd heard in my life that I would call sweet, if I were pressed for an example, and most of them I'd experienced in the months since I'd found my Lilah, but now I knew what the sweetest sound in the world truly was. It was that first cry of your child, the one that starts as a tiny whimper, a hitch in their breath, followed by a lusty, almost angry wail as they come to the realization that they've been born into the world, and overall, it's a place that is an absolutely chaotic mess compared to their former residence. It's too damn bright, and too damn loud, and why in hell is it so freakin' cold?...at least that's what I imagine that the little ones are thinking when they're hit with everything all at once.

While I absorbed that sound, while my eyes filled with tears that I pretended weren't there, while I sniffled and laughed at the same time, I waited to hear what would be the second sweetest sound at that moment, the doc's affirmation of what I'd suspected, what I'd expected all of this time, and that was that our baby was a boy, was the son I'd dreamed of...but that's not what I heard.

"Congratulations Lilah...Paul...you have a healthy, and very beautiful, baby girl."

It felt like I'd just been sucker punched, a reaction I immediately regretted, but for the life of me couldn't chase away. How could this have happened to me? A daughter would have been fine, had she followed two or three sons, but not my first child. Dammit...I wasn't cut out for that sort of thing. I didn't know how to talk to; how to relate to a tiny female cub...there had to have been a mistake of some kind...yeah...that was it...a mistake.

Dr. Cullen cleaned the baby off and suctioned the gunk out its mouth, cooing and murmuring nonsense to it the entire time, which was a little freaky; let me tell you, coming from a vampire. Then he wrapped the baby in a clean blanket and handed it to Lilah, and all of my hopes for a mistake being made went out the window when I did a quick check of the place where its credentials should have been and saw that yes indeed...we had a baby girl.

I was mulling everything over, ashamed of myself for being disappointed, when the funniest thing happened. The little girl resting in my Lilah's arms turned her face toward me and gave me her full attention...and I felt like I'd been poleaxed. It wasn't the same kind of sudden and consuming bond that I'd felt for her momma...no...This was a sudden and consuming need to protect, to teach, to live for and to love this baby girl until my last breath. Everything became crystal-clear for me in that moment, as I stared into those eyes that were black like mine, along with her hair, while everything else was all Lilah and I knew what it meant to be a father...and that I'd be the best one that I could be, because my little girl deserved nothing but the absolute best.

_Six Months Later_

The day was unseasonably warm for late September, the temperature hovering in the upper sixties, which was perfect weather for an outdoor wedding. They'd set up a tent on the front lawn and it was filled to capacity with family and friends, all gathered to witness the joining together of a wolf man and his imprint. The bride was glowingly happy, clutching hold of a plump, smiling little one who'd been christened Pearl, turning to smile at the man she loved, an equally happy groom who helped her to hold their baby girl nestled between their bodies, both feeling that it was of the utmost importance to have their child in this position of prominence and significance while they pledged their lives to her, and to one another.

It was a promise that had already been made between the lovers, in private, where no one could see, but now was the time to share it with everyone else. The groom was a little worried, having only met his soon to be mother and father-in-law a week after his daughter had been born, knowing that they, the father in particular, weren't exactly thrilled by the swiftness in which Lilah had grown attached to Paul, and he _really _hadn't been happy about the fact that the baby carriage had come before the wedding, but all in all he seemed to be coming around...maybe...hopefully.

Before long they were officially man and wife, or more appropriately, wolf and imprint, though that was a fact that her mother and father would remain ignorant of. Bride and groom exchanged a long, lusty kiss, one that was so long and so lusty that it made more than a few people blush, and gave cause for the father of the bride to add a growl of displeasure to the mix before they finally drew apart to join their guests, the wolves, the leeches and those who fell in between in an afternoon of merriment.

And lo and behold, after the happy couple had swayed one another several times around the dance floor, they joined once more for another slow dance, this one with their precious baby girl nuzzled in their arms, and the groom gradually, instinctively became aware of a predator gazing hungrily at the little blessing clutched tightly in his arms. He raised his eyes and found the face of the one who was watching his sweet daughter, staring at her in a way that suggested that he couldn't look away, as if his very life depended on drinking in every detail of her face...and he growled angrily, snapping his teeth in denial.

_You would __**dare**__ to do this? She's my little girl, my daughter dammit! Did the plastic models and porn stars get too boring, Embry? Did you think that there'd be more excitement in focusing your attention on my baby instead, knowing that your life would be sure to be in danger? Have you become a freakin' adrenaline junkie?_

The younger wolf reluctantly tore his gaze away from Pearl, whining and lowering his eyes in a submissive manner. _You know that I can't control it Paul. I don't know why it even happened. I guess that's what I get for staying away from you so much, huh? It makes sense, when you think about it...she was always sleeping when I visited, or in the other room, or a million other things, and this was the first time that I really got a look at her. You know that this is an innocent thing Paul, a devotion that is pure and honest...not anything pervy, for chrissakes._

The older wolf snorted derisively in response. If there was one thing that Embry knew absolutely nothing about, it was purity, but he had to admit that the little jagoff was right about one thing...he didn't have any control over what had happened. It was something that was out of all of their hands...but knowing and liking were two very different issues, dammit, and it would be a hell of a long time before he got used to the idea of some worthless wolf imprinting on his baby girl.

Lilah noticed the change in her husband's demeanor and stood on her tiptoes, cupping his cheek and drawing his almost violent gaze away from Embry with some difficulty, smiling at him gently before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Whatever it is honey, it can wait until tomorrow...okay?"

He smiled, an action that resembled more of a grimace of pain and nodded, resuming the dance that had stopped while he stared down the little upstart who meant to steal his daughter away.

"Whoever came up with imprinting ought to be shot," he mumbled, leaning down to kiss the top of his daughter's head. It was a silly thing to say...his life would be like God knows what if imprinting hadn't existed. Ah, well...there were a lot of years to be enjoyed before he'd have to accept the inevitable...maybe he'd be able to get used to the idea, in time...right after hell froze over, of course.

The End


End file.
